The Death of a Friend
by Vol lady
Summary: MINOR CHARACTER DEATH. Set immediately after A Flock of Trouble and Time After Midnight. The murder of a close family friend sends the members of the Barkley family reeling in several different directions.
1. Chapter 1

MINOR CHARACTER DEATH. Set immediately after A Flock of Trouble and Time After Midnight. The murder of a close family friend sends the members of the Barkley family reeling in several different directions.

The Death of a Friend

Chapter 1

It would have been Jarrod's first day back at the office, except that his office was still being repaired following the explosion that took his vision, thankfully now returned. Nick and Heath had gotten the repairs started, but when he got his first look at it, to Jarrod it looked like what it was – a room where several sticks of dynamite had gone off and blown the heart out of it, and thrown him into a darkness that not only left him handicapped – it also left him doubting his own character and courage. It had been a horrible three weeks, and now that it was over, Jarrod knew that even though he had managed to deal with himself, he still had to deal with the wreck of his office. The walls were back up, as was the ceiling. Lighting fixtures still need to be restored, and paneling needed to be put in. But it was coming along.

Since he was still acting district attorney for the county, he had access to that office in the courthouse and settled in there while he put his work life back together. Jarrod was amazed to discover that resuming his career as a sighted lawyer was almost as tough as enduring it blind. That made no sense to him, but his assistant, Mark Bromley, pointed out to him that any change was bound to be unsettling. Once he had gotten used to operating in the dark, the light was going to unhinge him a bit.

That was right before Mark tendered his resignation. Jarrod understood why he did it. Bromley had sold out to the man who had blinded Jarrod, forcing Jarrod to step back in and take the case against Joshua Cunningham. Jarrod agreed that there was no way that Bromley could continue as assistant district attorney after that, but he hated to see what was a promising career come crashing down like the ceiling of his exploded office. He deeply regretted watching Mark leave the office for the last time.

And he regretted it not only for Mark, but because it also left him with no assistant district attorneys on his staff at all. So, here he was, heading up the prosecutor's office not a week after regaining his vision, with no staff except for one overworked secretary, and a desk full of criminal cases he was going to have to try himself.

He didn't think it could get more stressful, but then, after three days of trying to organize and cope, Sheriff Madden came in.

Jarrod's stomach sank when he saw the unhappy look on Fred Madden's face. "Oh, Fred, don't tell me you've got a murder or something dreadful like that to drop on my desk."

Sheriff Madden sat down in a chair on the other side of the desk, holding his hat in his hands. "I'm afraid it's worse than that, Jarrod. I know you and your family have been pretty close to Carl Wheeler."

Jarrod felt his heart break. "Fred, no, don't tell me this – "

"I'm sorry, Jarrod," the sheriff said. "Carl was found dead in the alley behind Harry's saloon just after sunup, stabbed. His foreman got concerned when he didn't come home from a poker game, came looking and found him."

Jarrod shut his eyes, blessedly blind again for a moment that he wished would last, because then maybe he could go back a couple weeks and this horrible news wouldn't be true. "Robbery?" he asked.

"He didn't have any money on him, but I don't know yet whether he left the game with any."

"Nick was at that poker game, but he blew all his money early and was home before midnight. Heath was there too."

"I'll need to talk to them – and I know Audra's been seeing Carl off and on over the last few months. I think you're gonna want to go home and talk to them before I do."

Jarrod opened his eyes and looked at the sheriff. "Do you have any suspects? The foreman?"

"Not likely the foreman. Carl had been dead almost all night, according to Doc Merar. I talked to Harry, got the names of the men in the poker game and the names of as many men in the saloon last night as Harry could remember - the foreman wasn't among them. I'm just beginning my investigation, and I know you don't have any staff right now, so I'm deputizing Sandy Lewis to help me with the office while I look into this properly. Were you in the saloon with Nick and Heath last night, Jarrod?"

Sandy Lewis was a local man who worked in the bank and who could help out now and then without needing pay. Jarrod said, "No. I'll do what I can to help you, Fred, but I've got four cases on the docket next week."

"I know. I'm witness in each of them. But they're not much. Maybe you can get the defendants to plead guilty."

Jarrod's head was beginning to hurt. He rubbed his forehead. "I'll try. I've got time. Right now, I think I'll head home and break the news."

"Do you think Nick is going to be any trouble?"

"Trouble?" Jarrod asked. "What do you mean?"

"I don't need him going off half-cocked and trying to find who did this himself."

Jarrod quickly shook his head. "I don't think he'll do that. If he starts losing control, I'll calm him down, or Heath and Mother will. They usually have a way with him. Under the circumstances, Audra may try to keep him under control, too. She's gonna need him to help her through this. We all pretty much hoped that she was gonna marry Carl one of these days, and I think she was hoping for that, too."

"I am really sorry, Jarrod. I know there was that rift between Carl and the Barkleys over that sheep business – "

Jarrod waved him off. "That was over and the rift was repaired months ago. The only thing the memory of that is gonna do is make losing Carl sting more for Nick and Audra." Jarrod stood up, grabbing his hat and his gun belt from the hat tree behind his desk. "I guess I'd better get on home and break the news. When do you want to come out?"

"Later today would be best," the sheriff said, standing. "If Nick and Heath can tell me anything about that poker game last night, I want to hear it now before they start forgetting the details."

"All right. We'll see you when we see you, then."

Jarrod fetched his horse from the livery and rode home, his heart aching all the way. He was not as close to Carl as Nick and Audra were, but he had known the man since childhood and liked him. Carl was Nick's age, just as tough but maybe with a different business sense, since he was running his ranch completely on his own and had only the ranch to run. They had known each other before they were kids in school, seldom had schoolyard rows, and except for the sheep incident, never had any serious disagreements. Jarrod was grateful that the sheep incident had blown over and the Barkleys were on good terms with Carl again. That was the only silver lining in this terrible storm.

And then there was Audra. She never talked about Carl much, but she went out with him pretty frequently. Again, the sheep incident had damaged that a little, but since that was resolved, Audra was seeing Carl more often. Jarrod couldn't say whether his little sister was in love with the man. With his vision difficulties and the trial against Joshua Cunningham, Jarrod's focus, until very recently, had been completely on himself.

Something he realized was a natural reaction at the time, but something he now regretted. If he'd been paying more attention, he might be of more help to his siblings today. As it was, he personally had been dealing with one blow after another over the last month. Now he was going to have to break the news to Nick and Audra, and then he was going to have to reassure them, over and over as this progressed, that he was going to find who did this and see that he paid the price – legally – for what he'd done.

He prayed that he and the sheriff would be able to find Carl's murderer and do it fast. If this was done simply by a drifter who had already passed on through, they might never find him. That was a frightening thought.

"Damn," Jarrod said, out loud, to himself.

It wasn't long before he rode into the stable yard and found Ciego there. "Home so soon, Senor Jarrod?" Ciego asked.

"Yes," Jarrod said. "Are Nick and Heath here?"

"No, sir. They are out fixing fences."

"Would you go get them, tell them I need them back here right away? It's very important."

"Sure, Mr. Jarrod. Right away."

"Don't unsaddle my horse. If I'm going to be staying, I'll take care of him myself."

"Si, Senor."

Jarrod walked heavily into the house. No one was there to greet him. He didn't have any idea where they were, but he was not inclined to bellow for his mother as Nick would have done. Even if he was ever inclined to do that, he didn't feel up to it now. He left his hat on the table by the door and went toward the kitchen.

He found his mother there fixing lunch with Silas. They were fussing over something at the big table there in the center of the room, but Victoria looked up when she heard him come in. "Jarrod! We didn't expect you home this soon."

"Something's come up," Jarrod said. "Is Audra here?"

"No, she's out riding, but I expect her back in time for lunch." Victoria suddenly saw the look on Jarrod's face, the lines that hadn't been there in the morning, the deep sadness in his eyes. "What is it, Jarrod? What's wrong?"

Jarrod took a deep breath. "Fred Madden came to see me about an hour ago. Carl Wheeler was found dead in an alley this morning. Murdered."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Victoria sank into a chair, unbelieving. Even Silas looked like he was going to drop, but he didn't. He kept preparing the lunch, but now it was if he were acting in a trance. "How can that be?" Victoria breathed, her voice hardly audible. "Nick was playing cards with him just last night."

"Fred doesn't know much yet. He's going to come by here in a couple hours to talk to Nick and Heath, so I've had Ciego go for them," Jarrod said. "He'll want to see Audra too. I wanted some time to break the news to them. Why don't you come into the living room with me, Mother? They're going to need both of us when they get here."

Victoria looked to Silas, who nodded that he would continue to prepare lunch. Victoria then went with Jarrod into the living room, wordlessly until they got there and Jarrod sat his mother down on the settee. He headed for the refreshment table then.

"Would you like something, Mother?" Jarrod asked as he poured himself a scotch.

"No, not right now," Victoria said. "Oh, dear God, Carl – "

Jarrod brought his scotch with him, put it down on the coffee table and sat beside his mother. Taking her hands, he said, "How much has Audra been seeing him? I'm afraid my mind's been preoccupied over the last few weeks."

Victoria squeezed his hands. "Of course you've been preoccupied, what with the explosion and the trial. Uh – how much has Audra been seeing Carl? I don't know. Maybe once a week on Friday or Saturday night while you were injured."

"Do you think they were getting serious?"

"I don't know. Audra hasn't really acted like it, but then, frankly, Jarrod, we were all so worried about you that we didn't pay a lot of attention to anything else."

Jarrod smiled a little, touched that his family had been that worried about him, but a bit guilt ridden, too, and now mainly grateful that they didn't have to worry about him anymore. Because now, they would be worrying about Nick and Audra.

"What's going to happen to Carl's ranch?" Victoria asked. "He didn't leave any family, did he?"

"No, he didn't," Jarrod said, "but I didn't write his will. We'll talk to his foreman, make sure things are operating all right out there until the will can be probated. I suppose the ranch will be sold at some point, but that's in the future. Today we have to concentrate on finding out what happened and who did this."

Victoria began to cry. "Carl was a good man. I know you boys had your disagreement with him over those sheep – "

"That's in the past, Mother," Jarrod said. "Everything was resolved. Carl even bought me a drink at the saloon when Nick and I went over there, while I was blind. Everything was resolved. That's actually the last time I was with him."

Jarrod saw his mother's tears were increasing, so he gave her his clean handkerchief. She thanked him and said, "Someone's going to have to make funeral arrangements."

"I expect his foreman will do that, but either Nick or I will go over there and check after we talk to Fred this afternoon. It'll probably be Nick – he'll need something to do."

The front door opened, and Audra came bounding in. She took her gloves and hat off and left them in the foyer. "What a beautiful day!" she said as she came into the living room. "I could have spent all day out there – "

Audra stopped when she saw her mother was crying. The confused look on her face made Jarrod get up and come to her. He took her by the shoulders.

"What is it?" she asked. "What's happened? Is it Nick or Heath?"

Jarrod guided her to sit down beside her mother. "No, nothing's happened to Nick or Heath," he said. "They should be here by the time lunch is ready, but something has happened you need to know about."

Audra sat down, taking her mother's hands, worried because Victoria had been crying. "What is it?"

Jarrod sat on the coffee table, leaned toward her and put his hands with both Audra's and their mother's. "Sweetheart, Carl Wheeler has been killed."

Audra's face slowly screwed up, as if it was taking time for the words to settle in and become real. "What?"

Jarrod squeezed her hands. "He was killed sometime overnight. His foreman found him in an alley in town this morning. It looks like it might have been a robbery."

"No," Audra said. "Oh, no."

Victoria pulled her close as Audra began to cry. Victoria looked at Jarrod, her eyes asking for help. Jarrod knew the best he could do was just be there, for both of them. He asked, "Do either of you want a drink?"

Victoria shook her head. Audra just cried. Jarrod just stayed there with his hands on theirs. Just being there if they had questions, just being there if they needed anything, was all he knew he could do.

But as he sat there, he thought about Carl Wheeler. He couldn't get the man's face out of his mind. It was a laughing face. He was often an ornery man but often so happy, his laugh could get you laughing, too, even when what he was laughing about was not really that funny. He and Nick were so much alike in temperament that sometimes Jarrod felt like Carl was another brother. He was sure that to Nick, Carl really was like another brother. Jarrod finally hung his head and grew angry about this. With all the slime in the world, a good man like Carl had to be taken. Where was the justice?

 _The justice will be in finding and punishing whoever did this_ , Jarrod told himself.

When Nick and Heath finally came in nearly an hour later, Victoria and Audra were both drinking a little brandy, seated again on the settee. Audra had gotten up and paced as she got herself back under control, but she sat back down when she began to feel more stable. Nick and Heath came straight in, pausing only to leave their hats and gloves in the foyer.

"What's happened?" Nick asked right away. "What's going on?"

Jarrod was standing by this time, facing his brothers. He hated having to say this over again, but he was the one who had to do it. "Carl Wheeler is dead."

"What?" Nick said, confused.

"He was found stabbed to death in the alley behind Harry's this morning," Jarrod said. "It looks like robbery."

Nick just stood with his mouth open, while Heath headed straight for the refreshment table. "Who did it? Who killed him?" Nick asked.

"We don't know yet," Jarrod said. "You need to stay here this afternoon. Sheriff Madden is coming to talk to you about the poker game last night and whatever else might help him find out who did it."

Nick finally sagged to one of the armchairs. Heath brought him a shot of whiskey, and carried one for himself. "Do you need a drink, Jarrod?" Heath asked quietly.

Jarrod shook his head. "I've had enough."

Heath wandered to the fireplace, standing with his arm on the mantle, staring into the empty firebox.

Jarrod knew he had to do something, say something. "I'll be helping Fred find the man and prosecuting whoever did this. Nick, I know how you're feeling right now, but you've got to stay far away from this investigation, other than answering questions from Fred or me."

Nick looked up, tears and anger in his eyes. "We grew up together. We've been friends ever since I had a friend. How can you tell me to stay away from this?"

"Because you _were_ friends for so long," Jarrod said. "This is going to be a tough investigation. If you get involved while you're hurting like this, it's gonna hurt more than it helps. It's gonna hurt you and it's gonna hurt the investigation."

Nick looked down at his drink. "I'll see what Fred says."

"All right," Jarrod agreed.

Nick looked up at Audra. She had obviously been crying, and now she was crying again. "Sweetheart," Nick said, his heart aching for her, "I'm so sorry."

Audra looked down at her hands. "I really thought we'd be married someday, Carl and I. If we had been, he might not have been in that poker game last night – "

Jarrod quickly sat down on the coffee table again, reaching for her hands as Heath came behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't go thinking like that, Audra," Jarrod said. "The 'ifs' will just hurt you more, and they're not valid anyway."

Audra looked up at him. "Will the sheriff want to talk to me, too?"

"Yes," Jarrod said.

Victoria squeezed her daughter's hands again. "We may not feel like eating, but we need to," she said. "None of us is going to be much help to the sheriff if we don't keep our strength up."

Jarrod stood up as Victoria did, and then Audra stood up, too. Jarrod put his arm around Audra, and Victoria reached to take Nick's hand. Heath herded them all ahead of him into the dining room, ready to help wherever he was needed.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Sheriff Madden arrived a little over an hour after the family had finished lunch. Audra had retreated to her room, falling into an uneasy sleep that she woke up from when she heard a soft knock at her door. She felt groggy and had trouble even sitting up, but she said, "Come in," and struggled to sit on the edge of the bed.

Her mother came in. "Are you awake?" she asked.

"Barely," Audra said.

"Sheriff Madden is here," Victoria said, coming closer. "He'd like to talk to us all at the same time, if you're up to it."

Audra slowly stood up. "All right."

Victoria wasn't so sure. When it came to her daughter, Victoria was fiercely protective, but now was the time for gentle protection. If Audra was not up to talking to the sheriff now, Victoria was not going to force her to do it.

But Audra saw her mother's worry and smiled just a little. "I want to help find the man who did this to Carl."

Victoria understood, and nodded.

The two women went downstairs to join the men in the living room, where Nick was already pacing around, talking. "I left before eleven. Ran out of money. Had no luck at all," he said, very calmly.

"I left with him, though I was never in the game to begin with," Heath said. He stood by the fireplace, planted firmly there, watching Nick pace.

"Any particular reason for that?" Sheriff Madden asked.

Heath smiled a little. "I didn't have money to burn."

Sheriff Madden had been standing with his back to the staircase and turned around as the women approached. At the far end of the room, watching, Jarrod came forward toward his mother and sister and helped them to the settee, where they sat down. He then moved away to a place near the piano, where he could see everyone as they answered the sheriff's questions.

The sheriff continued talking to Nick. "How was Carl doing in the game when you left? Did he have much money?"

"He was doing pretty well. Ahead in the game, anyway."

"When you left, did you see anyone take your place?"

Nick shook his head. "No, no, I wasn't paying any attention to that."

"I saw Farley Powers move that way, but I don't know whether he sat down," Heath said. "We were fast on our way out the door. Nick wasn't too happy about losing all his money."

"Give me the names of anybody you can remember being at the table or in the room."

Nick and Heath looked at each other, and between the two of them, they came up with a list of names that pretty much reflected the names the sheriff had gotten from Harry.

"Who did you lose to?" the sheriff asked Nick next.

"Everybody," Nick said.

"They laugh at you about that?"

"I don't really remember. What difference would that make?"

"I'm trying to figure out your frame of mind when you left."

"Why? You don't think I killed Carl because he laughed at me for losing all my money or something?"

The sheriff tried to tamp down Nick's anger before it rose up any further. "No, I don't, but I don't want any surprises coming from somebody else who might want to insinuate that."

"Who would do that except Mr. Prosecutor over here?" Nick waved Jarrod's way.

"Mr. Defense Attorney would do it, not me," Jarrod said, making sure the anger he often felt in response to his volatile brother was not coming up. "Just answer Fred's questions, Nick. Don't read anything into them."

Nick let his anger out with a big sigh. "Sorry, Fred, I'm just torn up inside over this."

"I know, Nick," the sheriff said. "Where did you go when you left the saloon?"

"Our horses were tied up right outside, so we came straight home," Nick said.

The sheriff looked at Heath, who nodded a confirmation.

"Did you talk to anybody on the way out of town?" the sheriff asked.

"No," Nick said.

"All right, now this is really important," the sheriff said. "When you left the saloon, did you see anyone in particular go in? Anybody at all?"

Nick looked like he had to think about it. Heath immediately said, "Will Claybaugh went in. Works for the Stewart spread."

"Was he alone?"

"Yeah, and he looked a little rocky on his feet already."

"Yeah," Nick said, remembering. "I think he'd already been one or two other places."

"You didn't see where he went once he went inside?" the sheriff asked.

Heath shook his head. "No, we went straight to our horses. We couldn't see inside from there."

"You didn't see anybody else go in?"

Nick and Heath both shook their heads.

"Did you see anybody in particular on the street, headed that way or not?"

"It was too dark," Nick said, "and I was just anxious to get home."

Heath nodded his agreement.

The sheriff changed the subject. "Before last night, when was the last time you saw Carl Wheeler?"

"Been a while for me," Heath said. "Maybe just after that sheep business, Nick and I had a drink with him at Harry's one day, burying the hatchet."

Nick nodded, but said, "Jarrod and I ran into him at Harry's one day a couple weeks ago, right after Jarrod put that Cunningham case to bed. He bought us a drink. That was the last I saw of him."

"How were things between you then? Friendly?" the sheriff asked.

"Sure," Nick said. "We'd all gotten over that sheep problem. Carl even said he saw my point about it. It was forgotten."

The sheriff looked Jarrod's way. Jarrod said, "Carl seemed to be just fine. We sat and talked for about – I don't know, half an hour or so before Carl had to leave. Said he was going back to his place."

"And he seemed all right? Nothing about him looked angry or anything?"

Jarrod smiled a little. "Better ask Nick that. I couldn't see him."

The sheriff had forgotten for a moment that this happened before Jarrod's vision returned. A little embarrassed, he looked Nick's way.

Nick was shaking his head. "He was fine. We were friends again. Fred, I didn't kill Carl. I wouldn't kill Carl. He was my friend, had been since we were kids. Heath and I came straight home and were here by midnight. We didn't see a thing other than what we already told you."

Nick's irritation was rising up again. The sheriff said, "Nick, this is gonna be a tough case to figure out. I'm just trying to find anything you might not be thinking about, something you saw or felt or heard that might have slipped your mind until now. It could be anything. Just think back to last night. Think hard. Was there anyone or anything that you know that might help me?"

Nick and Heath looked at each other. They both shook their heads. "Fred, I've told you everything I can think of," Nick said.

"All right, just one more thing," the sheriff said. "Were there any strangers there last night that looked fishy about anything at all? Anybody who struck you as odd or nervous?"

"Nobody," Heath said flatly.

Nick shook his head too. "There were a couple strangers, but they didn't look fishy. They looked like men passing through - drummers maybe, I don't know."

The sheriff sighed and turned his attention to Audra. He gave her a soft, sympathetic smile. "Audra, I'm sorry to have to ask you these questions, but as you can see, I need all the help I can get on this."

Audra nodded. Victoria kept an arm around her.

The sheriff asked, "When did you last see Carl Wheeler?"

"Last Saturday night," Audra said. "The dance in town. He picked me up here at about seven, and he brought me home at about midnight."

"How was he? Did he seem nervous or upset about anything?"

"No, nothing at all. He was as he always is – was." Audra's voice trailed off. Once again, she was forced to accept that he was dead. She swallowed hard. "He was happy, cheerful, his normal self. We had a lot of fun."

Audra cried a little. Victoria squeezed her shoulder.

"Did anyone at the dance seem angry with him, or did he seem angry with anyone else?" the sheriff asked.

Audra shook her head. "No. He didn't have words with anyone. No one seemed to even look his way with any anger, and he didn't look that way at anyone else. It was a lovely evening."

"At any time you've been with him since the end of this sheep problem – has he had words with anyone? Has anyone approached him looking angry? Anything at all like that?"

Audra shook her head again. "I'm sorry, sheriff, but no. Everything always seemed fine. I'm sorry I'm no help to you."

"You are help," the sheriff said. "I'm getting rid of other possible causes for this and it's looking more and more like it was simple robbery."

"But who?" Audra asked. "Who would rob him?"

"That's what I'm zeroing in on," the sheriff said, "and you have been a lot of help. Now, before I go – Nick, Heath, is there anybody you remember being in the saloon that you haven't mentioned to me? Anybody at all?"

Nick and Heath shook their heads.

"All right," the sheriff said. "If you think of anybody, if there's anything you think of that might help me, tell Jarrod. You never know what might help."

The sheriff nodded his good-byes and turned to leave. Jarrod walked with him to the door as everyone said good-bye to him, and then Jarrod walked outside with him. As they walked to where his horse was hitched near the stable, Jarrod said, "This is looking more and more like plain robbery."

"Yeah," the sheriff said, "and I've gotten a couple of ideas about who might have been involved from other men at the saloon last night."

"Are we looking for one man or more?"

"I'm not sure on that yet, but Carl left just after one, and he had plenty of winnings. What I can't nail down yet is how he ended up in that alley when his horse was tied on the street."

"Somebody lured him back there."

"Or dragged him back there. Or it could be something else, like answering the call of nature. The doc is still looking over the body. There might be some bruises or something to indicate if he was dragged."

Jarrod nodded as they reached the sheriff's horse. "I'll be back in town again in the morning. I have to square away those cases I have coming to trial next week."

Sheriff Madden unhitched his horse and nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow, then. I know your family is pretty broken up about this. I'm sorry I had to drag them through these questions."

"I know," Jarrod said. "I'll take care of them. Nick won't fly off the handle. We'll be all right."

The sheriff smiled. Jarrod had a lot of practice keeping his brother under control and consoling his sister and mother. And now he had Heath's help. The sheriff nodded and rode away.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

It was late, and Jarrod was the only one still up, reading the file on one of the cases he somehow had to dispose of next week. Talking with the sheriff had been a catharsis for everyone. Audra's tears flowed freely then. Nick's anger rose and went down fast, not to rise up again at least on this day. Over the bulk of the day, they each moved off to themselves, not talking much, finding small tasks to do or simply sitting and reading. Dinner was subdued but not silent, and it seemed as if everyone was letting the fact that Carl Wheeler was dead sink into them so they could deal with it, however they individually had to do that.

Alone with his work after everyone else had retired for the evening, Jarrod finished a brandy as he finished his review of the file, deciding he could offer the perpetrator a sentence of time served on this theft from the mercantile. The man didn't have a lawyer, and the theft, while he did take a pretty valuable item, was not something he'd actually gotten away with. The clerk had gone into the street and grabbed him right away. The thief had spent several days in jail. It was his first offense, and he was only 16 years old. Jarrod thought time served might do the trick.

Jarrod got up and put the last lamp out before he climbed the stairs to go to bed, but suddenly Audra was in front of him at the top. The soft light from the hall lamps made her look weary, and her eyes were red, and for a moment Jarrod thought she might be sleepwalking. He took her carefully by the shoulders. "Hey, now, what are you still doing up?"

She looked at him. "Why would someone kill Carl?"

Jarrod took her into his arms. "It looks like robbery, honey. Someone killed him for the money he was carrying."

"But why do that? I know Carl. If someone wanted to rob him, he wouldn't have resisted, not if it was dangerous, not if whoever robbed him had a knife."

She started to cry. Jarrod guided her back into her room, saying, "We'll know more after we hear from Dr. Merar. He'll be able to tell something by examining Carl. It could be he just never had a chance and that whoever robbed him never intended to let him live. We just don't know yet."

By now, they were in her room and Jarrod sat her down gently on her bed. He sat down next to her, his arm around her shoulders.

"You'll find who did it, won't you?" Audra asked.

Jarrod said, "You know I'll do my best. I know you loved Carl. I know how bad you're hurting. But have faith in me and the sheriff. If there's any way to find out who did this, we'll find it."

Audra looked at him, tears in her eyes. "I really thought Carl – I really thought – oh, Jarrod – "

She started to cry more. Jarrod held her close. "I know, honey. I'm sorry."

Audra wiped her eyes with her hand. "Do you think there really is a heaven, Jarrod?"

"I don't know," Jarrod said. "I like to think there is some kind of justice at the end of our lives, but it's not for me to know what that is. I do know that Carl was a good man. He'll have his reward, and it will be a good one."

Audra cried even more and Jarrod let her bury her head into his shoulder.

XXXXXX

At breakfast the next morning, Nick announced that he was going over to Carl's ranch to see if there was anything he could do to help over there. Carl had a good foreman and Nick doubted he could add much to the proper running of what was a sizable operation, but he thought he might be able to give some moral support. Heath wanted to go along, but Nick wanted him to stay at the ranch and keep things going here.

"I won't do anything other than see to Carl's place," Nick said. "I don't need a keeper."

"Not a keeper, Nick," Heath said. "Just company."

"Thanks, but I'll be all right."

Jarrod went on into town to his office at the courthouse, preparing to review the files of the other cases he had coming up and ready to approach the 16-year-old about settling his case for time served. The secretary at the district attorney's office, a woman about Nick's age named Ann, didn't have anything new for him, so he got down to reviewing the other files.

He had gotten through one file when Ann knocked on the door and poked her head in. "Mr. Barkley?"

Jarrod looked up. "Yes, Ann?"

"Mr. Litchfield is here to see you."

John Litchfield was another prominent attorney in town, but he did not do criminal work. Jarrod couldn't imagine why the man would want to see him, but he said, "Send him in."

Litchfield came in seconds later. He was an older man, balding and gaining too much weight. Jarrod stood up and took the hand Litchfield offered him. "Jarrod, good to see you back to work."

Jarrod realized Litchfield hadn't seen him since he'd regained his vision. "Thanks, John. It's good to be back. What can I do for you?"

As they both sat down, Litchfield said, "It's about Carl Wheeler."

Jarrod didn't understand. "We haven't located a suspect yet, John, and you don't do criminal work."

"It's not about any criminal case," Litchfield said. "It's about Carl's estate. You know, he didn't have any living relatives."

Jarrod knew that. "He's not intestate, is he?"

"No, he left a will. I wrote it. That's what I need to talk to you about. You know, he owned a lot of real and personal property, and except for a small loan against the ranch, he owned it all free and clear. No liens of any sort."

"And what does that have to do with me?" Jarrod asked.

"I'm the executor and I'm going to probate it as soon as possible, to keep that ranch operating properly. Carl made a small bequest to your sister, Audra. He's left her his mother's wedding rings."

Jarrod suddenly felt very touched – and worried. How would Audra accept that?

"And," Litchfield went on, "he left every bit of the rest of his property, real and personal, to your brother Nick."

Jarrod nearly jumped out of his chair. "All of it? Everything? To Nick?"

"Every bit of it. When he had me draft the will, I asked him if he was sure about that. He said he trusted Nick more than anyone to keep the ranch operating and to have the respect for what his family had built that it deserved. I thought you'd better discuss these things with Nick and Audra before I did."

Jarrod sank limply back into his chair. Carl's ranch and business holdings were nowhere near as big as the Barkleys, but they were still substantial. "Good God."

"That's about what my reaction was," Litchfield said. "I hope your brother won't decline the bequest. I talked to Carl about it extensively before we wrote the will. He trusted Nick completely to do right by the property, even if he sells it in the end."

"I don't know what he'll do," Jarrod said. "He's over there this morning, to see if there's anything he can do to help. Do you know if Carl told anyone about leaving his property to Nick?"

"I'm sure he didn't tell anyone. He swore me to secrecy."

Jarrod nodded, still absolutely light-headed over this. "Then Carl's foreman and hands are in for a shock, not to mention Nick." Jarrod wondered when he could get away and where Nick would be when he could. "I really need to talk to Nick as soon as possible, but I've got three more cases to get off my desk before next week. Heck of a time to regain my eyesight." Then Jarrod realized his dark humor might not be appreciated. "Sorry, John. Believe me, I'm deliriously happy to be seeing again, bad timing or no. Are you going to start probate proceedings right away?"

Litchfield got up. "Already have my secretary drawing up the papers. It should only take the minimum amount of time."

Jarrod stood up. That would still take several weeks, what with the notice requirements. He offered Litchfield his hand again. "I appreciate your coming by to tell me, John. I'll track down my brother as soon as I can and talk to Audra tonight."

"Good luck with trying to find who killed Carl, too," Litchfield said. "He was a good man who deserved better."

Jarrod nodded and walked Litchfield to the door. As soon as he left, Jarrod fetched his suit jacket and hat and headed out the door. As he passed his secretary, he said, "Ann, I hope I'll be back after lunch, but I have to find my brother Nick, so if anybody is looking for me, just tell them I'll get back to them as soon as I can."

Jarrod left, heading for the livery stable, and in less than fifteen minutes, he was on his way to Carl Wheeler's ranch.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Jarrod didn't even make it a mile out of town before he ran into his brother Nick coming in. "What are you doing here?" Jarrod asked. "I thought you were going to Carl's place."

"Things are fine over there," Nick said. "I was just getting in the way. I thought as long as I was nearby, I'd check on how the work at your office is coming along."

Jarrod had completely forgotten about that, what with everything else on his mind. He suddenly felt like he was a juggler with too many balls in the air, but he was glad Nick was here. It would save him the trip to Carl's place. "I need to talk to you."

"Let's check your office first. They're supposed to have the doors up and the paneling at least started."

They rode together and were soon hitched up outside the damaged building that housed Jarrod's office. It looked pretty good from the outside, and once they got inside it was structurally not too bad there either. The doors were up and the paneling was started. It would be ready before too much longer. For now the workmen were gone, perhaps fetching more paneling from the cabinet maker on the other side of town. Jarrod and Nick had the place to themselves.

"It's coming along," Nick said. "What do you think?"

"Might be ready by the time I can resign being acting district attorney," Jarrod said. "Look, I need to talk to you and this isn't much of an office, but it is private."

"All right, go ahead," Nick said.

Jarrod took a deep breath of courage. "John Litchfield just came to see me. He wrote Carl's will and he's the executor. He wanted me to talk to you about Carl's property. Except for his mother's wedding rings – which he left to Audra – Carl left everything, real property and personal property, to you."

Nick's eyes went wide, and in another moment he reached for something nearby to get stable with. "Me? Are you serious? The ranch and everything?"

"The ranch and everything," Jarrod said, and then he stayed silent while he watched Nick let it sink in.

Nick looked around for someplace to sit down, but there wasn't anyplace. He ended up leaning back against the wall. "But – he had to have cousins or some relative."

"No, no one," Jarrod said. "John said he talked to Carl extensively about it, and Carl wanted you to have the ranch because he trusted you to take care of it and show it the respect it deserved."

Nick let that sink in, and slowly he began to tremble, and then he was crying. He tried but couldn't keep it from happening. Jarrod reached for him, keeping him against the wall for stability, and he took him into his arms. Jarrod couldn't remember doing that in a long time, maybe since they had both come home from the war and had their demons to exorcise. It might not be a demon now, but it was a shock.

"I can't believe it," Nick whimpered, getting himself under some control but unable to stand up on his own yet.

Jarrod backed off a little. "You were always like brothers, Nick. Maybe this shouldn't be surprising."

"But it is," Nick said. "It just never even occurred to me. Jarrod, what should I do?"

"For now, just make sure it continues to run as it has been. Litchfield is the executor. You're not the official owner yet, but you're the one Litchfield will be looking to, since he doesn't know how to run a ranch. The will will have to be probated, but that takes time. When it's all finally deeded over to you, well, by then you'll have had time to decide how you want to handle it, but I think what Carl wanted is clear. Since he didn't have any family, he wanted you to have his ranch."

Nick shook his head and wiped the wetness from his face. "His foreman didn't seem to know this."

"According to Litchfield, Carl didn't want anybody else to know. What did you and his foreman have to say to one another this morning?"

"Nothing much. I just told him that if he needed my help, he only had to ask. I don't know how he's going to feel to find out I'm his boss, though."

"You don't think he thought Carl would leave the ranch to him, do you?"

"No, no. He seemed more concerned about whether he'd still have a job once whoever inherited it took over. And now it's gonna be me." Nick shook his head, still leaning back against the wall, still unable to believe this.

"If I were you, I'd let this sink in overnight before you talk to – what's his name? Carl's foreman?"

"Franklin. Sam Franklin."

"Talk to him tomorrow, no earlier. You need to get hold of yourself and let this all sink in."

"Well, I can't see doing anything other than keeping it going as a separate concern for the time being," Nick said. "Even if I want to incorporate it into the Barkley ranch, that would take a lot of time and doing."

"Think about it," Jarrod said. "You and Heath and I have plenty of time to kick around the logistics. This affects him in a roundabout way, too."

Nick nodded and finally stood up. "I'll tell him about it." Then he looked around Jarrod's office. "I feel like this office looked about a month ago."

Jarrod nodded. "I understand, Nick. But don't worry. We'll all be here to see you through."

Nick nodded. "Thanks, Jarrod. I'll need you."

XXXXXXX

Heath was as astonished as Nick was. "The whole ranch? Everything?"

"Everything but his mother's wedding rings, and those he gave to Audra," Nick said with a sigh. "I never expected this, Heath. I don't know what to think."

"Think that he was your friend and he trusted you with everything he owned," Heath said flatly. "There's nothing else to think."

"Oh, God - I mean – what should I do with it? Should I move it in with the Barkley property? Should I try to sell it? What am I supposed to do with his whole house and all the furniture and his clothes and everything else? And his bank accounts! I haven't even thought about them!"

"Nick, get a grip on yourself," Heath said, seeing that Nick was almost beginning to panic. "First of all, you don't have to decide everything today. You can't even do anything legal about the property until the will is probated. And second of all, you have a brother who's a lawyer and who can walk you through all of this when the time comes. There may be legal or business reasons to do one thing and not another. And third, nobody's gonna make you handle this alone. We'll all talk about Carl's property. For now, just calm down."

Nick shifted in the saddle and shook the tears out of his head. "Carl was my friend since we were barely out of diapers, Heath."

"That's why he trusted you with his estate, Nick. He knew you'd see it was handled right."

"When I took over those sheep a few months ago, I thought we were done for good."

"You weren't. You know that. We patched everything up. If Carl had thought he couldn't trust you anymore, he'd have changed his will."

Nick hung his head. "Look," he said finally. "I need to just ride the long way home and clear my head. Will you keep an eye on things out here?"

"Sure, but don't be much past six getting in or Mother will worry. Jarrod's likely to be home before me and told her and Audra what's going on."

Nick nodded, and he turned his horse and rode off. Heath really didn't know whether to feel good or bad for Nick about this. Good, because it showed the depth of Carl's affection for Nick and because it was a definite increase in wealth for him. Bad, because it cost Nick his best friend and was grieving him as deeply as Heath had ever seen him grieve. Heath could tell by the direction Nick was going that he was planning to stop by the creek he liked to do his fishing and his thinking beside. It was a quiet spot, soft and beautiful and it could calm Nick down even when he was at his most riotous. It would help him now. Confident that he could find Nick if he had to go looking for him, Heath rode closer to the herd and got back to work.

XXXXX

Nick was beside his fishing creek within twenty minutes. He dismounted and tethered his horse to a tree, then went closer to the creek and sat down on a log he favored in the past. And then Carl overwhelmed his thoughts.

Nick was still stunned that Carl was really dead, and now add to that Carl had left everything he owned, except for his mother's rings, to him. He just couldn't believe it, and as he did let it sink in, he just kept talking to Carl. He kept telling him that he had no idea that Carl believed so much in him. He kept telling him that he was sorry and angry that he was gone but that he would do his best to do right by the ranch he left behind. He kept asking Carl to let him know, somehow, whether he should fold the Wheeler ranch into the Barkley ranch, or whether he should sell it, or whether he should try to keep running it as a separate enterprise. Because Nick knew he had some serious decisions to make, and the time to make them would come up faster than he might be ready for. And he wanted to do what Carl would have wanted him to do - but what was that?

Nick picked up stones and threw them down, hard and fast, into the water. He felt like he just wanted to hit a fish with one of the stones and kill it right then and there, watch it float to the surface and then grab it and throw it down hard back into the water too. Something, anything to make his feelings explode out of him, because he wanted to get them out. But there would be no doing that, he knew. He remembered when his father died, and his feelings were much the same. He remembered he was so enraged then that his mother and older brother had to keep him reined in physically more often than he liked to admit. He couldn't remember how he got those feelings out so he could calm down. Time just seemed to pull them out, time and the need to help his mother cope and the need to take over running the ranch.

Now it was similar, but something that was different was that when his father passed, Nick had a much better feel for how Tom Barkley wanted his ranch run. Nick had known for years that he would be taking it over some day, and shock that it was when it finally happened, he at least was prepared for it. He was not prepared for Carl Wheeler to leave him his ranch and property, and there was something else. Tom Barkley had built his family and his dreams, and when he left this world he had left his legacy behind. Carl never got the chance to do that. He never got to have the family, the children, the son to groom to take over when he was gone. Carl was killed without ever really having had the chance to live.

"Aw, Carl," he finally said out loud, giving sound to his thoughts so maybe Carl would hear them. "You oughtta be here. You oughtta be marrying my sister and having lots of little kids running around who would take over your ranch when your time came. When your _right_ time came. It just wasn't your time. Damn it all, it wasn't your time."

Try as he might, Nick couldn't hear Carl giving him any solace or answering any of his questions. Carl was just gone. If something of his spirit was lingering and trying to talk to him, Nick couldn't hear it. All he could hear was the creek and the wind and finally, his own sobbing that he wasn't through with yet.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Her wedding rings?" Audra said, incredulous. "His mother's wedding rings? Carl wanted me to have his mother's wedding rings?"

Jarrod nodded. "I think you were the woman he felt like he was closest to marrying, honey," Jarrod said. "He loved you. He trusted you to treasure his mother's rings as much as he did."

Audra sat beside her mother on the settee, for a few moments just staring at her brother, but then she began to cry, as much as she had when Jarrod first told her Carl was dead. Victoria kept hold of her, but her eyes implored Jarrod to take over. Jarrod realized that all of this shock and grief was beginning to wear his mother down, so he took her place on the settee and let his mother get up. Jarrod held his sister close and let her cry. The grief was finally beginning to sink into Jarrod. This was the first time he felt himself beginning to cry, too.

Victoria turned away and used her handkerchief. Heath was coming down from upstairs and saw what was happening. He saw that Jarrod was holding Audra, to he went to Victoria and gathered her into his arms. He took quick stock of who was there and what was happening, and looking around saw that Nick was not home yet. He suspected that Jarrod had not broken the news to his mother and sister about Nick inheriting the rest of Carl's estate, but that he had told Audra about the rings. Jarrod glanced up at him in a way that pretty much told Heath he was right about that. Heath wasn't surprised to see either Audra or Victoria in tears. It was the reaction he expected.

Heath had told his mother, before he went upstairs to clear up, that Nick had taken off on his own but did not say why. Now he asked, "Do you want me to go find Nick?"

Nick came in the front door before Victoria answered. Nick looked weary, like he was having difficulty even moving. He didn't go straight upstairs, and he didn't head for the refreshment table. He just looked at Heath and asked, "Did Jarrod tell them?"

"I don't think so," Heath said, and still holding Audra, Jarrod shook his head.

"There's more to tell?" Victoria asked.

Audra heard her and looked up. "What else is there to tell?"

Nick looked at Jarrod, his eyes asking him to do the talking. Jarrod kept Audra in his arms as he said, "Carl left everything else he owned – his land, his house, his money, his personal items – to Nick."

Victoria would have fallen over if Heath didn't have his arms around her. "Everything? To Nick?"

Jarrod nodded. "John Litchfield came to see me. He drew up the will and he's the executor. He said he talked to Carl long and hard about it, and it was what Carl wanted. He knew Nick would take care of his property."

Nick said, "I need to go clean up," and he went upstairs.

"I need to sit down," Victoria said.

Heath took her to the nearest armchair. Audra was beginning to recover now, her tears disappearing. Jarrod felt like he could let her go.

Audra said, "Carl loved Nick like a brother, and he had no other family. I guess we shouldn't be surprised he gave everything to Nick."

"Nick's a bit overwhelmed," Jarrod said. "He's gonna need us to help him make the decisions he has to make."

"How fast will probating the will go?" Victoria asked.

"It'll take a few weeks," Jarrod said. "Litchfield will take care of it. Nick's problem will be deciding what to do with the property – blend it in with ours or sell it or what. And how to talk to Carl's ranch hands."

"I can help him keep the place running, if he wants me to," Heath said. "Sam Franklin and I have shared a few drinks. He's a good man. He'll help Nick, too."

"Carl would want Nick to keep the property, not sell it," Audra said. "I'm sure of that."

"I think he'll want to keep it, too," Victoria said. "The only question is – does it become part of the Barkley business just like the rest of it, or does he run it like a separate business?"

"That's the hard one," Jarrod said. "That's the one he's really going to need help with."

Victoria looked at him. "And you and Fred Madden still have to find whoever it was who killed Carl. Don't let Nick anywhere near that, Jarrod."

Jarrod nodded. "That's the one _I'm_ really going to need help with."

XXXXXXX

The next morning, a Saturday, Jarrod went into the sheriff's office early, so early that Sheriff Madden was surprised to see him. "What's going on?" the sheriff asked. "Do you have something for me?"

"Not exactly," Jarrod said, "but something you ought to know. John Litchfield came to me yesterday, said he'd written Carl Wheeler's will and he was executor of the estate."

"The beneficiary," the sheriff said. "The beneficiary is a potential suspect."

Jarrod shook his head. "The beneficiary was at the card game, but left long before Carl did. Nick is the beneficiary."

"Nick? Your brother Nick?"

"My brother Nick," Jarrod confirmed. "We didn't know about it until Litchfield told me yesterday. Carl had John keeping it completely secret. Carl didn't want Nick or anybody else to know. There's a small gift to my sister Audra in the will, too – Carl left her his mother's wedding rings. Other than that, everything – land, house, money, you name it – goes to Nick."

"Holy cow," Sheriff Madden breathed, leaning back in his chair and leaving his mouth open.

Jarrod said, "I wanted to get it all out in the open with you so you'd have no reason to think Nick killed Carl or had him killed. There's no telling what some people will say when they find out about this."

"I'll talk to Litchfield myself, but Nick clearly wasn't there when Carl left the game, and there's no way you'll make me believe he had Carl killed," the sheriff said. "What the heck is Nick gonna do with another ranch?"

"I don't know," Jarrod said. "Neither does he, but he won't refuse the bequest. Carl left everything to him for a reason – Nick was his friend and Carl knew he'd treat everything with respect."

"But the Barkleys are rich and suddenly much richer. You ready for what some people are gonna say about that?"

"My big concern is keeping Nick on an even keel and helping you find who killed Carl. Some people will get jealous and claim we had something to do with Carl's killing, but Litchfield is adamant that nobody but him and Carl knew about the will. There's no evidence at all that Nick or any of the rest of the Barkleys knew about the will or are involved in Carl's killing. In my opinion, we're still looking for somebody who robbed him."

Sheriff Madden leaned forward again. "I want to go talk to Harry again about who was in the saloon when Carl left. If we really work on this, he might be able to pare things down."

"Let's go," Jarrod said.

"Before we do – I heard from Dr. Merar. He's finished with the body and released it to the undertaker."

"Did he find anything that will help us?"

"Nothing. He says it looks like somebody just stabbed him and that was the end of it, so whoever did it took him by surprise, or was somebody Carl knew so well he wasn't alarmed to see him."

"We still have to figure out how he ended up in that alley when his horse was on the street. Makes things lean more toward he knew the man."

"Yeah," the sheriff said.

XXXXXXXX

They used old corks that they cut in half and labeled with the initials of the men they represented. Since the bar wasn't open yet, they had the corks laid out on top of one of the tables, and they put each one where the man it stood for was to the best of Harry's recollection at the time Carl left. But it wasn't long before Harry's head began to spin, trying to remember who was where when he left. The sheriff and Jarrod Barkley were asking a heck of a lot of him.

"Who was sitting where when Carl left?" the sheriff asked as they started over again because Harry lost track of what he was saying.

"All right," Harry tried again with a sigh. He put several corks in a circle. "Here's the poker table – Carl Wheeler was next to Farley Powers, who was next to – I can't remember. I don't think I knew who the guy was."

Jarrod put a blank cork in that spot. "We'll just leave his name off for now."

Harry completed the circle as best as he could remember, and then they began placing named corks around the space beyond the model table – such and such a man near the back door, so and so near the front door, four men at the bar.

"Are you sure there were that many men here at that time of night?" Jarrod asked.

Harry nodded. "I had to do a last call when the game broke up."

"Did Carl leave as soon as the game broke up?" the sheriff asked.

Harry tried to remember. "I think he did. When it ended or a few minutes after that."

"Who left right before him – between the time the game broke up and when Carl left?" Jarrod asked.

"Jarrod, I can't remember that," Harry moaned. "I was cleaning up and trying to get the girls to usher guys out of here."

"I'll want to talk to your girls today, Harry," the sheriff said.

"All right," Jarrod apologized. "Can you remember who was left in here after Carl went out? Who was left that you had to run out of the place?"

"That I can remember," Harry said, and he pulled four corks aside. One had no name.

"Well, that's something," Jarrod said and jotted down the names on the corks in his note pad. But there was still that one with no name.

The sheriff picked up the nameless cork and held it in front of Harry's eyes. "Think hard, Harry. Do you know who this was, or did you hear a name?"

Harry shook his head. "He was a stranger. He came and went and I never even looked at him much."

Jarrod picked up the other corks from the card game, representing the men left with Carl when the game ended. "Farley Powers, Dave Nixon, Sully O'Mannion. Fred, one of them might remember who the stranger was."

The sheriff nodded. "I'll get after them today – but one of them might be the one who killed Carl."

"We'll have to keep an eye on them in case one of them bolts."

"Jarrod, that's gonna be next to impossible. I don't have the manpower."

"We'll do the best we can. Harry, if anything else comes to you or you hear anything pertinent, you let me or Fred know as fast as you can, all right?"

Harry nodded with a sigh. "I'm sorry I'm not much help, but I liked Carl as well as you did. I'll do the best I can to help you find who killed him."

Jarrod gave him a clap on the arm. "We know, Harry. I'll stop by later this evening and see if you've found out anything."

"Take it easy, Jarrod, Sheriff," Harry said as Jarrod and the sheriff went out.

As they stopped in front of the building, the sheriff asked Jarrod, "Are you working in town all day?"

Jarrod shook his head. "I told Nick I'd stop over at Carl's place. Nick is going over there to talk to the foreman and the ranch hands. He thought I might be able to help him answer questions."

"Between your family and this investigation and your regular cases, you've got your plate full."

Jarrod nodded. "Good thing I'm back up to working form," he said with a light smile and went off to get his horse.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

When Jarrod rode up to Carl Wheeler's house, he immediately felt his heart sink. Something about seeing the house made him mourn even more heavily for Carl, made him think Carl should be here, made him angry that somebody had stolen Carl away from this place and from the people who loved him. It seemed all wrong, like somehow the world had taken a turn it wasn't supposed to take. Like somehow, if he just found the right road going in the right direction, he could take it and find Carl alive and well at the end. But of course, none of that was true. The only thing waiting for him at the end of the road was a brother who needed his help and support, a brother waiting here at this ranch that would soon be his.

Jarrod saw Nick's horse tethered to the rail in front of the house, and the front door was open. Jarrod hitched his horse and steeled himself to go into the house.

Nick and Sam Franklin, Carl's foreman, were just inside the front door. They turned and looked as Jarrod appeared in the doorway. Nick was looking worn and grief stricken again. Jarrod could understand.

"This is my brother, Jarrod," Nick said to Franklin.

"Jarrod," Sam Franklin said.

"Sam," Jarrod said. "Nick asked me to come by while you were here in case you had any questions about the will and the procedure from here on."

Franklin shook his head. "I know pretty much how it goes from when my brother died. I was my brother's foreman, but his widow wanted her brother to take over, so I moved on right before probate was finished."

"How are your men taking this? Do you need me to help answer questions they might have?"

"They're mainly concerned about their jobs."

"They'll have jobs," Nick said. "Even if we were to combine this place with our place, we'd still need them. I'll still need you, Sam. I can't ask McCall to take over a second ranch, and since you already know this one, I'll ask you to stay on. That is, if you want to."

Franklin nodded. "I'd like to stay, Nick. Why don't we talk about it when the place is through probate?"

Nick nodded. Then he took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling, then around the room. And then he shook his head.

Jarrod knew Nick was still suffering a lot. He just didn't know what to say to him here in front of Carl's foreman.

Sam Franklin asked, "Are you and the sheriff any closer to finding out who killed Carl?"

Jarrod said, "Maybe just a little, but it's gonna take a lot of work before we can nail it down. There were just too many men at the saloon when Carl left. Fortunately we know who most of them were, but one or two were strangers, and we don't know if somebody was out in the street waiting for him."

Sam Franklin shook his head now. "This whole thing is a damned shame. Fine man like Carl just murdered like that."

"Is there anything else you need me for, Sam?" Nick asked quickly. "If you have everything in hand here, I need to get back to my own herd."

"One other thing we ought to talk about," Jarrod said. "Dr. Merar has released the body to the undertaker. It's time to plan the services."

Both Nick and Franklin sighed heavily. "What do you say, Sam? Out here, graveside, bury him next to his mother and father?" Nick asked.

Franklin nodded. "We'll get the grave dug today, do the services tomorrow after church. Carl wasn't much for a big to-do unless it was a dance or something like that. A big funeral, he wouldn't want. We'll keep it simple."

"I'll tell the undertaker to have him brought out here in the morning," Jarrod said. "He should have something better than a pine box, though. I'll take care of paying for things – with highest respect from the Barkleys."

Nick nodded. "You take care of things here, Sam. We'll be by after church lets out, 12:30 or so."

Franklin nodded.

"I'll spread the word," Jarrod said. "A lot of people loved Carl. They'll want to see him off."

Franklin nodded again. "We'll just keep running things here the way we have been, Nick. The only thing is the deal Carl was working on with you, about combining the herds on your summer range to save our grass for when the drought settles in."

Nick said, "Under the circumstances, that's a done deal. I'll tell Heath to talk to McCall about moving the herds. McCall will talk to you. I'm heading back to my place. Jarrod, are you going back into town?"

"Yes," Jarrod said. "I'll be at my office in the courthouse, but if you need me, you'll have to tap on the window or something. The courthouse isn't open today."

"Be home for dinner?" Nick asked as they walked out the open front door.

"Probably not," Jarrod said. "Tell Mother to expect me when I get there."

"All right," Nick said, unhitched his horse, mounted up and left without another word.

"He's really broken up about this, Jarrod," Franklin said.

"I know," Jarrod said. "He and Carl were friends since they were kids, and he was knocked for a loop to find out Carl left his estate to him. We all were. The more you can handle things here, at least until we find Carl's killer, the better things will be in the long run, for Nick and for this ranch."

"I'll keep things going," Franklin said. "We'll just need somebody to do the books before long, and see the men get paid."

"I'll talk to Carl's lawyer and to Don Wiley. One of his accountants should be able to handle that for the time being, and all the accounting and inventory that has to be done for probate."

"All right. Just so Wiley knows his pay is tied up in probate court for now."

"He's used to that."

"You just find who killed my boss, will you, Jarrod? The sooner the better."

"I'll do my best, Sam," Jarrod said and left to go back to town.

XXXXXXX

The first place Jarrod went when he got back to town was to the undertaker's. The undertaker seemed almost as grief stricken as anyone else, speaking in tones even lower than he usually spoke, moving even more slowly. He showed Jarrod a coffin made of solid mahogany. It was a fine looking piece, quality but not too elaborate, like Carl. Jarrod bought and paid for it and the costs of the entire funeral, his hands shaking as he gave the check over to the undertaker. The undertaker's hands were shaking, too.

Then the undertaker took Jarrod to see Carl's body. Trembling even more, Jarrod entered the room he'd been in a handful of times before, to identify someone who had died. He'd seen plenty of bodies through the years, from the war on, but when it was someone he knew, when it was a friend, it was such a surreal experience that Jarrod often felt light-headed. And he did now. Carl lay there as wooden as the coffin Jarrod had just picked out. He was just a thing now, inanimate, just as if there had never been a laughing, kind, turbulent, ornery, thoughtful human being inside that shell. Carl wasn't here anymore. That fine and complex young man had just gone away.

Jarrod left the room, leaning on the doorframe as he did and asking the undertaker to spread the word about the funeral to be held at the gravesite at the ranch. He left the building, allowing the fresh air to revive him, and he headed for Harry's saloon. Skipping any drink, he asked Harry to spread the word, too, then headed for the sheriff's office.

Jarrod ran into the sheriff on the street, not far from his office. "How are things at the Wheeler place?" the sheriff asked.

"As well as we can expect," Jarrod said. "Sam Franklin will keep things running. I need to talk to Litchfield about getting one of Wiley's accountants out there to handle the books. That ought to keep things smooth until the estate is probated and Nick takes over. I went to the undertaker's and took care of the funeral arrangements. It'll be a simple service out at Carl's ranch, after church tomorrow."

Sheriff Madden nodded. "I've gotten a couple things done this morning. Come on into my office and let's talk."

Jarrod followed Sheriff Madden into the sheriff's office. Jarrod spotted the coffee pot and headed for a cup. Sheriff Madden smiled a little. Jarrod was one of the few people who was here enough he could make himself at home.

"I've talked to a few people this morning," the sheriff said and sat down.

Jarrod brought him a cup of coffee and sat down in front of the desk. "Any good leads?"

"I think so," the sheriff said. "Sully McMannion."

"Sully?" Jarrod asked, surprised. "Why Sully? He's never been trouble before."

"I talked to a couple men from the Stewart ranch who said they saw Sully head into the alley. I asked him about where he went when he left the saloon, and he admitted he visited the necessary out back, and he said Carl used it after he did. That gets us to why Carl was in the alley, but Sully said something else, too. Said he heard Nick was the beneficiary under the will, and then he got adamant that Nick was the one who killed Carl, to get his property."

"You know he didn't," Jarrod said.

"I know. There's no evidence implicating Nick at all, and Sully didn't add or take away from that. But he was big mouthed about it. Made me think. Who has any reason to try to pin this on Nick? There's nobody else who gets Carl's property if Nick gets convicted of killing him – the state gets it. Sully doesn't have any interest in seeing this pinned on Nick, no interest that we can see up front. There's only one man who would really want to see Nick take the fall, and that's the man who really did the killing."

"Sully?" Jarrod said, still not convinced it was Sully.

Sheriff Madden nodded.

Jarrod shook his head. "That might be true, but you never know about people. Somebody who just doesn't like Nick or the Barkleys would bad mouth him about this."

"Did Sully ever seem like he didn't like Nick?"

"No," Jarrod had to concede. "I guess you'd better lean on Sully some more, maybe bring him in for heavier questioning."

"I will after I talk to a few more people. How about you? You doing all right?"

"Me?" Jarrod asked, a little surprised Sheriff Madden would be asking. "I'm fine. I just have to talk to the rest of those characters I have cases for next week. Not a one of them has a lawyer, so I'll have to track them down, see if I can get them to plead guilty."

"You're working pretty hard, and you just got back to work," the sheriff said. "Look out for yourself."

"I'll be fine," Jarrod said. "I suppose I might get more tired after we find who killed Carl, but I'll be good until then."

"And that brother of yours? Nick has to be reeling from suddenly having a whole other ranch."

Jarrod nodded. "He is, but he'll handle it. Things ought to settle down for him after the funeral tomorrow. At least his grief might settle down."

"You don't think he'll get to be a problem if we don't lock up Carl's killer pretty quickly? Especially if he hears people are suspecting him."

"Yeah, he very well might, but I'll try to keep a lid on him, and if he stays busy running two ranches, he might not have time to blow his cork. For now, everything is under control, Fred. Just do your best to nail down this killer, and let me know if I can do anything other than what I'm already doing."

The sheriff nodded as Jarrod finished his coffee and stood up. "Let's hope we get something solid in the next day or two. If I can arrest somebody just after Carl's funeral, it'll help everybody get over this."

Jarrod nodded and left. As he got out into the street, he heaved a big sigh and tried to focus on what he had to do now. What he had to do was find a young man named Ballard who stole a few chickens from a couple farms over the last few weeks. The regular work of an acting district attorney had to go on.

But around the edges of his consciousness played his grief over Carl and his concern about Nick – about Nick's grief, about the stress on him of running two ranches and about the possibility that the stress might make him lose his composure for a good long time.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Jarrod chased around and found all of the men he had trials coming up for, and he managed to get all of them to plead guilty for time served. None of the charges were serious, and each of the men seemed happy to accept Jarrod's offer. With all of that done, there was only the paperwork and extremely brief appearances before the court, rather than full jury trials. Jarrod spent the rest of the day doing the paperwork and getting ready for court, and it took until eight o'clock that night.

Eight o'clock on a Saturday night was a lively time in Stockton. Jarrod was hungry but decided just to go to Harry's for food and drink. He had a double purpose – get some nourishment, and nose around for potential suspects on who might have killed Carl. That was bound to be the big topic of conversation.

Jarrod did a lot of listening while he ate and drank, and then he decided to play a little poker. He did some more listening. Sully O'Mannion wasn't there, but another man – one Jarrod didn't know – picked up the noise about Nick killing Carl to get the ranch. Someone else at the table that Jarrod did not know told the man that he was crazy.

"Nick Barkley didn't even know Carl left his property to him. How could he kill his best friend for something he didn't even know was coming to him?"

"I'll bet he knew," the first man said.

Someone at the table who knew Jarrod – one of the hands at the Barkley ranch – looked up at him, wondering if Jarrod was going to jump in on this. Jarrod decided to do it. "He didn't know. Nobody knew until Carl died."

The first man said, "And you're so sure of this how?"

"Well," Jarrod said, looking at his cards, "I'm Nick's brother, and I'm a lawyer. I know Carl's lawyer. I know what he told me to my face. Carl kept the whole thing secret. Only he and his lawyer knew, and that's the way they both kept it until Carl was killed. Now, why don't you tell me why you're so sure Nick knew all about it?"

The first man shut up then, and it wasn't long after that he left the table. The Barkley ranch hand leaned in toward Jarrod and spoke quietly to him. "That was Walt Deavers. He hired on to the Miles place about a month ago. He's picking up his lousy information from the Miles people."

Bad blood never went away, Jarrod had learned over the years. It was sad that after all this time, Wally Miles was still nursing a grudge and now was feeding it – intentionally or unintentionally – to his people. A man who had once been a close family friend - a man who had been there when Jarrod himself was born - had become a sullen family enemy because of his sick son, a boy Victoria had to kill to protect Audra, a boy Jarrod had to dig up information on and confront Wally Miles with when it was the last thing he wanted to do. Jarrod knew his mother was suffering the rift in silence, but how long she'd keep silent if this sort of behavior from Miles continued was anybody's guess. Victoria Barkley gave a lot of leeway to her friends, but she would not let them roll over her or her children.

Jarrod wandered on home just after ten o'clock. He expected everybody might still be up, but in fact he only found Nick pacing the living room alone. Jarrod took his hat and gunbelt to the pegs in the hall, saying, "Where is everybody?"

Nick followed him in. "Gone to bed. Tomorrow's gonna be a tough day, what with Carl's funeral. Audra's still crying. She loved him a lot more than she thought she did."

"I know," Jarrod said. "I'll look in on her before I turn in."

"What were you up to today?"

Jarrod headed for the refreshment table in the living room. "Well, after I left you I put several trials I had lined up for next week to bed with plea bargains. Then I had some dinner at Harry's and played a little poker. Talked to Fred a couple times in there."

"Are you any closer to finding who killed Carl?"

"Maybe, just a little. How well do you know Sully O'Mannion?"

"Sully? Not well at all. Has he got something to do with this?"

Jarrod poured himself some brandy. "Maybe. He's blabbering that you killed Carl for the inheritance you got."

"What?!" Nick blurted.

"Be quiet, Nick, you'll wake everybody up," Jarrod said. "And don't take it seriously. There's nothing solid on Sully, nothing at all. I quieted down another fella at the poker table, too. None of this is gonna stick. It just makes Fred wonder if the men doing the complaining are doing it to divert attention away from themselves. That's why he's suspecting Sully – that and Sully was in the alley when Carl headed for the necessary, so now we know how Carl got in the alley."

Nick made a face and shook his head. "If I ever get my hands on – "

Jarrod cut him off. "You're never gonna get your hands on whoever killed Carl, you got that? You're gonna stay away from this, no matter what, and you know I'll knock you silly if you don't. I don't care if you've got two inches and fifteen pounds on me – I can knock you silly if I want to, so don't make me want to."

Nick eyed him angrily, but then let it go. "You're right, I know. And I got more things to do now that I own two big ranches."

"You don't own it until the probate has gone through, but yeah, you have to help out out there. Carl knew you would do that. That's why he left it to you."

Nick wandered to the armchairs near the fireplace and plopped down into Jarrod's thinking chair. Jarrod sat down in the other chair to nurse his brandy. "Litchfield will take care of the paperwork on that, right?" Nick asked.

"Yeah, but I'll go to closing on it with you if you want. That's weeks away, though. Don't go worrying about it right now."

"If I decide I want you and me and Heath and Audra and Eugene on the title to Carl's place, we can do that then, right?"

"Right."

"Aw, Jarrod. I really miss Carl. This just all seems so wrong."

"I know, Nick. I feel the same way."

Nick looked up at his older brother. "I might just fall apart at his funeral tomorrow."

"Then fall apart, Nick," Jarrod said. "It might take that for you to get a grip on all this. He was your friend for almost all your life."

"Yeah. Except for that sheep business, we never had a serious row. And I know this sounds awful, but you getting blown up and blinded right after that kind of brought Carl and me back together. I grieved for you, Jarrod. I couldn't tell you or anybody in the family because you needed me too much, but I told Carl, and he helped me help you."

Deeply moved, Jarrod stared into his glass. "I was pretty worthless there for a while. I guess I owe Carl even more than I realized."

"He was a good man. You gotta find who did this. I really want to see him behind bars, or hung."

Jarrod sighed and took a sip of his brandy. "Why don't you get yourself to bed, Nick? I'll close up down here."

"You need rest more than I do."

Jarrod shook his head. "I'm all right. I don't have as much on my mind as you do. Go on. Get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

Nick got up, gave Jarrod a slap on the back and headed for the stairs, saying, "Good night, Jarrod. Thanks."

Jarrod smiled and slowly finished off his brandy. Then he sat there for a while. Tomorrow was going to be rough for all the Barkleys, Nick and Audra because of their personal grief, Heath and their Mother because they would have to support Nick and Audra. It would be his job to support anyone who needed it. Jarrod was really grateful that he was well enough now to handle all this, because they'd all need him at some point. And he would need them.

Jarrod put lights out and climbed the stairs, and just to be sure, he opened the door to Audra's room slightly and listened for the sound of her breathing evenly in sleep. But it wasn't there. In the light coming from the hall, he saw her move. "Hey," he said softly. "Why aren't you asleep?"

When Audra sat up in bed and lit the lamp beside it, Jarrod came in, closing the door quietly. Audra said, "I can't sleep, Jarrod."

Jarrod came to the bed and sat down beside her. She leaned into his shoulder, and he put his arm around her. "What can I do to help that?" he asked.

"I don't know," Audra said. "I just miss Carl so much. I just can't believe this is happening."

"I know, honey," Jarrod said. "It's always that way when someone we know and care for is taken like this."

"Are you any closer to finding out who did it?"

"A little, maybe. We won't give up."

"Nick and I are a handful right now, aren't we?"

Jarrod laughed a little. "I've had my times of being a handful, too. We're here to help each other. It wasn't very long ago I needed you, even more than you need me right now."

"I don't know how much help I was."

"I do. I'll always remember hearing your voice reading to me. You were someone I love, reaching out to me out of the darkness. You helped me. You really did."

"You've helped me a lot more over the years."

"Only because I'm older. You are a strong young woman, Audra. Tomorrow will be tough, but you'll make it. We'll all make it. Carl will be proud of us."

Audra began to cry again.

Jarrod held her closer. "Shall I read to you, the way you read to me when I couldn't see?"

"Did it help?"

"I fell asleep on you a couple times, didn't I? I guess it helped."

Audra laughed a little. "All right. But make up a story about Princess Audra."

Jarrod laughed as Audra lay down again under the covers. "I haven't made up a Princess Audra story since you were maybe eight years old."

"Then it's time you got some more practice in."

"All right," Jarrod said. "Let's see. Once upon a time, Princess Audra was playing in a garden full of roses – "

"No thorns."

"Roses without thorns…."

Audra did fall asleep while Jarrod was telling the story, and he never did finish it, which was probably a good thing since he was spinning it so much it was getting away from him and he never did figure out an ending. He pulled the cover up over his sister and blew out the lamp, then quietly left.

And found his mother there in the hall, just outside the door. She smiled. "Princess Audra to the rescue?" she asked.

Jarrod chuckled a little.

Victoria said, "You might need to make up a Prince Nicholas story too at some point."

Jarrod laughed quietly. "I don't think I could begin to make up one of those. Besides, Nick and Audra are both holding together pretty well. I know, I'm not around a lot these days and maybe I don't see it all, but I was afraid it was going to be worse than it's turning out to be."

"They're stronger people than we give them credit for sometimes," Victoria said.

Jarrod began to walk her back to her room. "How about you? How are you doing?"

"Oh, not bad, but I wasn't as close to Carl as Nick and Audra, and even you were, either now or when you were growing up. I think what bothers me the most is that I think he would have been a good son-in-law. I think Audra loved him more than she'd admit, even to herself."

"I think you're right, but isn't that often the way? Often we don't know ourselves how we feel about someone until they're taken from us."

They reached Victoria's room. She turned and put her hand over her son's heart. "I was afraid you weren't going to be able to take the strain of all this, what with being back in good health for such a brief time. I'm grateful for you, darling."

"Just paying you all back for taking such good care of me lately," Jarrod said.

Victoria gave him a kiss on the cheek. "No. It's just who you are. Good night, darling."

"Good night, Mother," Jarrod said and kissed her in return, before he too went off to get some sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

There were so many people at the graveside service that the minister had to be sure he spoke more loudly than usual at these gatherings. Carl's ranch hands stood close to the grave and the minister. His pallbearers – Sam Franklin and five other hands – stood closest, ready to lower the remains of their boss into the ground. The Barkley family stood not far away right behind the ranch hands, up slightly on a little rise of land. Heath stood with his arm around Audra, Nick with his arm around his mother, and Jarrod just behind them and a little higher up, keeping watch over all of them.

Jarrod also took advantage of his position to look around at all the other attendees. He made note of several other landowners who were there, including Wally Miles and his wife who stood on the other side of the grave. He and Wally locked gazes just once, Jarrod trying not to look belligerent, Wally looking angry, as usual, but then looking away. Jarrod spotted Sheriff Madden not very far behind Wally.

As he scanned the crowd, Jarrod wondered if Carl's murderer was here today. He looked from face to face, asking himself if this could be the one. He looked for some reaction, for someone to notice he was looking their way, for something to tell him that this was Carl's killer. He looked at all the faces he knew, some for many years, some hardly at all. One by one he put them into his memory, burning them into his mind. But not a one of them gave Jarrod any sense that he was guilty. If Carl's killer was here, he wasn't giving himself away.

When the minister was finished, when they lowered Carl's casket into the ground, Jarrod saw his sister begin to shake more. Heath held tighter to her. Nick and Victoria gave her a glance but content that she was being tended to, they concentrated on each other and held each other tighter.

And then it was all over. People began to disperse slowly. Some tossed flowers into the grave, some tossed a handful of dirt. As his family turned to go, Jarrod stayed as he was. "I want to have a word with Fred," Jarrod explained. "You can go on home. I won't be long."

Jarrod had ridden in on his horse while the rest of the family came in the surrey. He had expected that he'd want to talk to the sheriff and maybe some others. Jarrod began moving toward the sheriff, noting that the sheriff was coming his way, too. Just as they reached each other, Jarrod looked toward the place where his family was climbing into the surrey and was satisfied that they were all right.

"Something I thought of partway through the service, when I saw Wally Miles," Jarrod said quietly to the sheriff as soon as they were almost alone. "I should have thought of it while we were playing poker last night."

"What is it?" the sheriff asked.

"One of Wally Miles's new hands, fellow named Walt Deavers, played poker with us, got mouthy about Nick knowing he was going to inherit Carl's ranch. It wasn't until now I started to wonder if you ever asked Sully O'Mannion if he saw anyone else go back to the necessary behind the saloon."

"I did. He hemmed and hawed about it and said he saw somebody who might have gone that way but he couldn't tell who it was."

"Why don't you lean on him a little bit more about it?" Jarrod suggested. "Let him know we just want to find the man who actually did this. Maybe he won't hem and haw and he'll remember who it was he saw."

"You think it might have been this Deavers fellow?"

"I don't think it was anybody in particular right now, or if he even really exists. I just want to see if Sully can give us another name. I just want to see if we can place anybody else in that alley."

"If Sully is the one who killed Carl, he might just clam up more."

"Well, then we'll know more, won't we?"

"All right. You heading home?"

Jarrod nodded. "I think my brother is gonna need more direct attention today. I want to see that his grief is dissipating after the funeral, not getting worse. I'm worried he might let it build up on him and then you know how he gets. It'll take both me and Heath to hold him back."

"I'll come by after I locate Sully and talk to him. I can read the riot act to Nick then if you want me to."

Jarrod smiled. "It helps that you're bigger than he is. Thanks, Fred."

They parted company, the last men to leave except for the men who were shoveling dirt into the grave. Jarrod watched for just a heartbeat or two, and he said a silent good-bye to Carl. A fine man. A great loss.

XXXXXXX

When Jarrod arrived back at the ranch, he found the family gathering in the living room while Silas was preparing lunch. They were still in their funeral clothes, still moving around very silently or, in Audra's and their mother's case, not moving at all. The women sat on the settee, Audra still nursing her tears. Nick and Heath were pacing a bit, Heath trying to stay with Nick while not looking like that's what he was doing. Jarrod headed for the refreshment table and poured himself some scotch.

It had been a long time since Jarrod had seen this house so somber. He thought back to when his father died, how silent everyone was for such a long time as they each struggled to process their pain. Now he looked around, saw how no one was looking at anyone else, all eyes staring at the floor. Jarrod felt the need to say something, but at the same time he felt like he wanted to keep as silent as everyone else. If someone else needed to speak, he wanted to hear that.

Nick finally stopped pacing right in front of Jarrod, and he looked up at him, livid. "I want to hear that you know who did this to Carl."

"I wish I could tell you I knew, Nick," Jarrod said. "I just talked to the sheriff. We're still working on it, we have leads - "

"You either come up with something better than that pretty soon, or you're gonna see me asking my own questions and conducting my own investigation."

"Nick – " Heath started.

Jarrod talked at the same time. "Nick, you're gonna stay out of it. Your job is to keep Carl's ranch going. It was his life. He entrusted his life to you. Your job isn't to find his killer – that's my job. Your job is to keep his life's work going."

Heath quickly said, "Jarrod's right, Nick. You gotta stay out of this and let him and the sheriff do the investigating and the prosecuting."

Down deep, Nick knew his brothers were right, but he couldn't help glaring at Jarrod. Just under the surface he was ready to burst. He turned his glare onto his younger brother. "You'd feel like I do if you had a friend you'd known all your life, Heath. Don't tell me what to do."

"I'll tell you what to do, Nick," Jarrod said quickly. "Heath is right. Stay out of it. We're both hurting because we loved Carl too, but we're also hurting because you're hurting. Keep it together. Remember you're keeping a man's dream alive. Let me and the sheriff take care of bringing his killer to justice."

Nick brought his glare back to Jarrod. "And if you can't?"

Nick had hit on what Jarrod dreaded. What if they never knew who killed Carl? It was possible that they never would. "We still keep Carl's dream alive," he said, more softly. "And I promise you, I will never give up looking. Never."

Nick eased off. He had nothing to say in response to that. He turned away and wiped the wetness from his face.

Silas came in, looking nervous, unable to do anything for these people he loved other than say, "Lunch is served, Mrs. Barkley."

"Thank you, Silas," Victoria said. "We'll be right in."

Victoria stood up then, Audra standing with her. The two of them came over to where Nick stood with Jarrod and Heath. Victoria touched Nick's arm, but it was Audra who came closer to him and put her arms around his waist. The two people who were closest to Carl Wheeler took a moment to cry together, and then their mother began to move them toward the dining room.

XXXXX

Sheriff Madden came out to the ranch at about four o'clock. Jarrod met him at the door and quietly directed him back outside, saying, "It's been a tough day. I don't want Nick to see you here."

"He's about to explode, isn't he?" the sheriff said as he and Jarrod walked back toward the stable yard.

"Yeah, it's getting hard to keep his mind on ranching and away from finding Carl's killer," Jarrod said. "Can't say how long I'll be able to keep him corralled if we don't come up with something soon. Did you talk to Sully?"

"I did, a long talk. I made him think hard, and he came up with a name for that man he saw go into the alley after he came out."

Jarrod stopped. "Who?"

"Sam Franklin," the sheriff said.

Jarrod was stunned. "Sam Franklin? That's not possible. Sam Franklin would never kill Carl. Not another soul has said he saw Franklin in town that night."

"That's the name Sully gave me. I went over to the Wheeler place and I talked to Franklin. He denied being in town that night, and I believe him."

Jarrod sighed a huge sigh. "We're right back to being nowhere."

"I wouldn't say that. Sully made up that story about Sam Franklin. He's is out and out lying now. It's looking more and more like he's our man."

"We're gonna need more than that, Fred."

"That's why I'm gonna go bring him in. I know he works for the Miles place and you're not the most welcome man there, so I'm heading there now on my own. I don't think Miles will give me any trouble. I'm gonna bring Sully in, and I'm hoping that a night in jail and me leaning on him even harder in the morning will shake something loose."

Jarrod nodded. "I'd better stay away from it until you get something we can charge Sully with. Otherwise, Wally might very well throw his weight behind Sully just because he's still angry with me about Evan."

"That's my thinking, too. But don't tell Nick any of this. Keep him as far away from this as possible."

Jarrod nodded. "I'll be in the office tomorrow morning if you need me. Here's hoping you can bring his case to my desk and I can get him arraigned by tomorrow night. That is, if he really is the man we're looking for."

"Yeah," the sheriff said. "Let's hope he is."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

There was little conversation at the gathering before dinner or at dinner, and Nick and Heath both turned in very early, knowing they would have a lot of work to do the next day. Jarrod found a good cigar and took some time to relax on the porch swing on the veranda in back of the house. As he smoked and rocked, he cleared his mind of all that was going on, of all the work he had to do the next day, of all the worry about finding Carl Wheeler's killer.

That was when something else dawned on him. Why hadn't he thought about it before? He jumped up, checked his watch and saw it was only nine o'clock. He hurried back inside and found his mother and sister in the living room, reading.

"Mother, I need to go back into town," he said as he headed for his hat and his gun.

"Tonight?" Victoria asked.

"Tonight," Jarrod confirmed and headed for the front door, before Victoria or Audra could even get up. "I need to see Fred Madden. I'll be back in a couple hours."

When he went out the front door, Victoria and Audra looked at each other. "He's thought of something about Carl," Audra said.

Victoria nodded. "I hope it's something helpful."

Upstairs, Nick's ears pricked up when he heard the front door close. He was only partly undressed and getting ready for bed, so he threw his shirt and boots back on and went downstairs, saying, "What's happening? What was that door slam?"

"Nothing, Nick," Victoria said. "Jarrod just decided he had to go back into town."

"Did he say why?"

"No," Victoria said.

Nick hurried out the front door, unaware his mother and sister were up and after him now. But when they got to the front door, Nick had already disappeared into the darkening stable yard.

Nick found Jarrod saddling his horse. "What's going on? Why are you heading back to town?"

"Just something I thought of I need to let Fred Madden know about," Jarrod said.

"Tonight? What?"

Jarrod paused and looked toward his younger brother. "Nothing you need concern yourself with, Nick. Let me do my job, and you get some rest so you can do yours."

Nick grabbed Jarrod by the shoulder. "I want to go with you."

"No," Jarrod said flatly.

"Dammit, Jarrod, I need to know what's going on. I buried my best friend today, and I need to know what you're doing about finding his killer."

"We've talked about this, Nick," Jarrod said, trying very hard to keep his calm. "You can only make this investigation more complicated by distracting both me and the sheriff. Stay here. Get some rest so you can handle two ranches."

Nick let go of Jarrod's shoulder. "You talk to me when you get back. I don't care what time it is. I want to at least know where you are in this investigation and who you have on the list of who might have killed Carl."

"Nick, I'm gonna tell you one more time, you have to stay out of this," Jarrod said, more sternly. "You've got work to do, and I've got work to do, and we're both better off if we stay out of each other's way. Because I will deck you, Nick, if you try to do anything about finding Carl's killer on your own. I will lay you flat out in the dirt."

Nick grew more livid and made a grab for Jarrod's shoulder again, but Jarrod saw it coming and swatted Nick's hand away. They stood glaring at each other, until Jarrod's horse whinnied as if asking them what they were doing and was he going to be saddled tonight or not.

Jarrod eased off. "Nick, take care of Carl's ranch. Let me take care of finding his killer. I will do it. I won't give up."

Nick sighed. "I'm sorry, Jarrod. I just – I just can't – " He didn't know how to finish the sentence.

Jarrod put his hand on Nick's shoulder now, but it was gentle, calming. "I know. Go to bed, get some rest. We'll talk tomorrow, and I'll tell you as much as I can then, but you have to stay out of it. You have to stay out of it."

Nick nodded, saying, "All right," and he turned and wandered back to the house.

Jarrod took a moment to rest his forehead on the side of his horse, letting the stress out. His horse whinnied again. Jarrod gave him a quick rub behind the ears. "I know, old boy. Being a Barkley horse is not an easy job, is it?"

XXXXXXX

It was pretty quiet in town on a Sunday night, but the light was still on in the sheriff's office. Jarrod hitched up outside the office and went in.

The sheriff was there, sitting on top of his desk. In the chair in front of the desk, Sully O'Mannion sat, on the edge, looking very frightened. Sheriff Madden looked up at Jarrod, who stood just inside the door. Jarrod motioned him outside.

The sheriff followed Jarrod onto the boardwalk in front of the door and closed the door behind him. "What is it?" the sheriff asked. "Something wrong?"

"Not exactly," Jarrod said. "I knew you were talking to Sully, and I suddenly put something together. Do you know a man named Walt Deavers?"

"No, never heard of him."

"He works for Wally Miles, like Sully does. You said that Sully told you he saw Sam Franklin go into the alley after Carl did, remember?"

"Yeah, that's what he told me but he couldn't have. Franklin wasn't even in town. I'm almost entirely sure of that."

"But Sully's sticking to his story, isn't he?"

"Yeah, he's sticking to every bit of his story about the whole thing. What's your point?"

"Deavers is new in town. Been working for Miles for only a month. I played poker with him Saturday night, and I watched him walk away to the bar at one point. From the back, Fred, he looks a lot like Sam Franklin. Same build, same height, same way of moving. Maybe Sully is telling the truth, but he saw Walt Deavers and not Sam Franklin. In the dark alley, he might not have been able to tell the difference and just didn't know it."

The sheriff looked like he was thinking about it. He looked back toward his office before he looked at Jarrod again.

"It's worth asking Sully about, if you do it the right way," Jarrod said.

"Why don't you come in and give it a try? I can stay ornery, you can ease up on him," the sheriff said.

Jarrod considered it, then nodded, and the two of them went back inside.

"Hi, Sully," Jarrod said as he came in. Sheriff Madden took a stand next to the door to the cell block while Jarrod sat down on the edge of the desk. "I know we haven't talked yet, but I'm acting district attorney right now. If you're to be prosecuted for Carl Wheeler's murder, I'd be the one prosecuting you."

"I didn't do anything!" Sully cried, and he looked scared to death.

"I didn't mean to say you _would_ be prosecuted," Jarrod said. "I just want to make sure you know my place in this. I'm not a defense attorney right now. I'm not talking to you as your lawyer right now. There's something else I want to try to clear up."

Sully just stared at him.

Jarrod shifted, moving a little closer to him. "You told Sheriff Madden that you saw Sam Franklin, Carl's foreman, go into the alley after Carl did, remember?"

"Yeah, I did!" Sully said. "He's been trying to tell me I couldn't have seen him, but I did!"

"I want you think about something," Jarrod said. "Think hard, Sully. Everything might depend on this. Is it possible that when you thought you saw Sam Franklin, you were really seeing somebody else?"

Sully looked confused, like he was trying to think and wasn't coming up with anybody else.

"Think hard, Sully," Jarrod said. "Picture it again. See the man again. Was he walking away from you or toward you or how when you spotted him?"

Sully was looked away from Jarrod now, looking back into his memory. After a few long seconds, he said, "He was walking away from me. I was mounted up. I looked toward the alley and that's when I saw him."

"Did you ever see his face?"

Sully shook his head.

"Did you see what his clothes looked like?"

Sully shook his head again. "It was too dark."

"Think about how tall he was, how he carried himself. Is it possible it was somebody other than Sam Franklin?"

They waited for Sully again. This time he closed his eyes. Jarrod didn't want to plant any names into Sully's head, but he wished like crazy that Sully would come up with another name, the one Jarrod wanted.

Sully started to shake his head, and then he stopped. "Wait," he said. "Maybe – do you know Walt Deavers? He just come onto the Miles ranch."

"I don't know him well," Jarrod said. "Are you saying it might have been Walt Deavers instead of Sam Franklin?"

"Maybe," Sully said. "They kinda look alike, and I just don't know Deavers. Nobody does. He keeps to himself, and I don't know what kind of man he is." Sully looked over toward the sheriff. "You say Sam Franklin wasn't in town – maybe it was Deavers I saw, if he was in town."

Jarrod took a deep breath, looking over at Sheriff Madden, who was coming toward them, sighing. "Okay, Sully. I'll ride with you back to the Miles ranch and I'll talk to Deavers."

"Don't tell him I told you," Sully said, looking nervous, and then he realized Deavers would figure it out pretty easily.

"If it was Deavers, we might need you to testify about what you saw," Jarrod said. He wanted to see what Sully's reaction to that would be. And though he didn't say so, he knew that Deavers might easily turn this all back on Sully and claim it was he who saw Sully go into the alley, not the other way around.

"I don't – I don't know – " Sully said.

"Let's cross that bridge when we come to it," Sheriff Madden said.

Jarrod got up off the desk. "I'll talk to you tomorrow morning, Fred. Sully, thanks for telling us what you know. That's what you should keep doing. If you're not involved in this, you have nothing to worry about if you're honest with us."

Sully just nodded vacantly. Jarrod nodded to the sheriff, and then he left and headed home.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Jarrod got a late start in the morning, so late that Nick and Heath had already left for the day. "I'm sorry, Silas," Jarrod said as he came down the back stairs into the kitchen. "Do we have some coffee and something I can grab to eat that doesn't put you back to work too much?"

Silas was already pouring coffee for Jarrod, and he pointed to a plate of cornbread on the table in the middle of the room. Jarrod accepted the cup of coffee with a thank you, then grabbed a piece of cornbread. He gulped it down, trying not to get crumbs all over the place, and chased it with a big swallow of coffee. His mother came into the kitchen as he was dancing the awkward dance.

"Glad to see you got up," she said. "Nick was pretty upset you weren't at breakfast to tell him about what happened last night."

"Nothing's really happened yet," Jarrod said and drank more coffee. "I'm heading into town. If Nick gets back before I do, just tell him that and keep him from blowing his stack."

"I'll do my best, but you know as well as I do that keeping Nick calm is a mighty chore sometimes and gets worse as these things go on."

Jarrod kissed her on the cheek. "I'm hoping to have more information when I get home. I can't guarantee it, but I'm hoping for it. How's Audra this morning?"

"She's gone riding already. I think she might head for the Wheeler ranch to have a moment with Carl."

"Oh," Jarrod said sadly. Then he took a deep breath and shook his head. "I hope I can file charges on whoever killed Carl soon. Things are not going to settle down until I do."

"Just watch out for yourself," Victoria said. "You're putting in a lot of hours and you've only be back to work for a week."

"I'll be careful," Jarrod said, "and I plan to be home for dinner."

Victoria gave Silas a wilted look as Jarrod left the room. "Don't worry, Mrs. Barkley," Silas said. "Mr. Jarrod, he knows how to keep this family together. He's had a lot of practice."

"Yes," Victoria said, "but this not having any suspect in Carl Wheeler's murder yet is trying for all of us. He was a fine man, Silas. He might have been my son-in-law."

"I know, Mrs. Barkley," Silas said. "It's a sad business, but it can't be in better hands than the sheriff's and Mr. Jarrod's."

Victoria smiled a little. She knew that was true. She just hoped it was good enough.

XXXXX

Jarrod went straight to the sheriff's office when he got to town. Part of him was hoping to see Walt Deavers in a cell, but there was no one. Even Sully was gone. Jarrod's optimism dropped, especially at the tired look in the sheriff's eyes.

"Did you talk to Deavers?" Jarrod asked.

"Yes," the sheriff said, "and he let me look at his belongings, too. Says it wasn't him Sully saw. Showed me his pocket knife – it was clean and too small to have killed Carl anyway. I didn't find any money except the few coins he was carrying. I had no reason to bring him in, Jarrod, and Wally Miles is pretty mad now. He thinks we're after his men because of you."

Jarrod heaved a sigh. "I expect we'll be making a lot of people mad before this is done, but I was hoping Deavers was our man. Did you get a look at Sully's belongings?"

"Yeah, but he didn't have any money to speak of either. Interesting thing though – he didn't have a knife."

Jarrod thought and remembered. "Fred, I know he has a knife. I've seen it – a boot knife with a four or five inch blade, as I recall."

"Says he lost it two weeks ago," the sheriff said. "Hasn't replaced it yet because he hasn't had the money, so he says."

"Did anybody back up that story?"

"No, nobody did. But all of Wally's men backed off from both Deavers and Sully while I was there. Like they had a disease the rest of them didn't want to catch. Wally didn't back them up that much either. He just got mad that I was there and suspected Deavers and Sully. He wants us to leave him and his men alone."

Jarrod chewed on that. "Does Deavers know that Sully fingered him?"

"I don't know. Since I was looking through Sully's things, too, Deavers might have suspected it, or maybe it's the other way around, or both."

Jarrod sighed. "What do you think?"

"I don't know what to think. I don't know if Sully is playing us, or whether we really are looking in the wrong place. Problem is, I don't have anyplace else to look. Sully is the only one we know was in that alley with Carl."

Jarrod chewed on things again. "I wonder where Sully's knife is."

"What?"

"If you killed a man with a knife, wouldn't you get rid of it fast? I mean, it was dark. The alley was empty of men, probably. Wouldn't you find a place to ditch that knife?"

The sheriff heaved a sigh. "Yeah, I would, but where? It could be anywhere, and probably not in that alley."

"Somewhere between that alley and the Miles place."

The sheriff almost threw his hands into the air. "Jarrod, that's miles of territory! How are we ever gonna find a knife out there?"

"Well," Jarrod said, thinking of something. "I can run one idea by you that might work."

XXXXXXX

Jarrod went to Harry's saloon not long after it opened. He wanted a private word with Harry, before things got too crowded. It was a bit too early for a beer, so he bought a cup of coffee, and he drank it at the bar. One other man was there, but he got a beer and took it to a table, out of earshot. Jarrod made sure no one would overhear him and leaned in closer to Harry on the other side of the bar. "Harry, I want you to quietly spread something around."

"What's that?" Harry asked, keeping his voice low.

"The sheriff has found a knife, thinks it might be the one that killed Carl Wheeler."

Harry perked up. "Whose is it?"

"That's the big question we have to answer. That's why I want word to go around. We want to see if anybody starts acting funny."

"I know Sully O'Mannion lost a boot knife. He's been pretty noisy about that over the past couple days – made me wonder. You think it's his?"

"I don't know. Sully told the sheriff about losing that knife. Could be somebody stole it from him and used it to implicate him, or it might not even be his, but this knife the sheriff has has blood near the hilt, like whoever used it tried to clean off the blade before he threw it away."

"Why doesn't the sheriff just show it to Sully?"

"Sully's not gonna admit it's his, if it is. Our only chance is somebody acting differently when they find out about it – and don't tell anybody that's what we're after, okay? Keep that part to yourself."

"All right. Where'd the sheriff find it?"

"Not in the alley. That's all the sheriff is telling anybody. We want to know if somebody starts acting funny when the word gets out. Not just Sully, anybody. Like somebody heading some way out of town he wouldn't normally go, or somebody leaving here in a hurry after hearing about the knife. Anything, Harry. It's our only lead."

"Sheriff Madden's not even sure it was the knife that killed Carl, is he?"

"No. But he's treating it like it is. He's not even letting anybody else get a look at it, not even me. He's got it locked in his desk."

"Well," Harry said, "I'll spread the word, but I don't think it's gonna get you anywhere."

"You never know, Harry," Jarrod said.

"All right, Jarrod, I'll spread the word but keep it quiet that you're looking for somebody to act funny. But I don't think you're gonna get much of anywhere with this."

"Maybe not, but we have to start somewhere, don't we? See you later, Harry."

Jarrod finished his coffee and paid for it, then left. Harry was probably right – they weren't going to get anywhere waiting for somebody to give himself away over a fictitious knife, but maybe this angle would lead to some other angle they could work. At least Jarrod hoped so, because as he went back to his office and thought about all this, he thought of Nick and how much longer he was going to be able to keep him from jumping into this investigation with both feet.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Jarrod found out as soon as he got home that Nick was at the end of his patience. Nick had gotten home and cleaned up for dinner before Jarrod even came in the door, and he'd already had one shot of whiskey and been pacing like crazy, too. So Nick was only steps away from the door when Jarrod came in.

"Tell me you have something," Nick said.

But Jarrod was exhausted and getting near the end of his nerves, too. "Good evening, Nick."

Behind Nick, Heath was looking both apologetic and anxious. He wanted to help keep Nick under control, but he was tired of waiting for some results in this investigation of Jarrod's and the sheriff's, too. Jarrod interpreted Nick's words and Heath's body language as saying he was running out of time, even though Carl had only been gone a handful of days.

"You said you'd tell me today what you had," Nick said.

"I'm sorry, I just don't have anything I can tell you," Jarrod said, carrying his hat and gun belt to the pegs in the hall.

Nick was right behind him. "What is taking so long?"

Jarrod turned and headed for the living room. "What's taking so long is that Carl was murdered in the dark, late at night, in an alley with no witnesses, that's what." Jarrod poured himself a scotch, turned around and found Nick in his face, Heath right behind him. "When there are no witnesses, Nick, it gets harder to find a suspect. You know that. And whether we find out what happened this week or next week or the week after, it doesn't change what you have to do. You have to keep two ranches running and get ready to be the owner of Carl's ranch and all his property. That's what you need to be concentrating on. That's your job. I'll let you know when I have anything on who killed Carl that I can give you, but I don't have anything yet, and nobody's more unhappy about it than I am."

Taking Jarrod's steam in his face made Nick settle down a little. Heath took the opening. "Jarrod's right, Nick. He's doing the best he can do, but there just isn't much to work with."

"Thank you, Heath," Jarrod said, took a sip of his scotch and headed for his thinking chair.

On the settee, Victoria and Audra were staying quiet, until Jarrod sat down and looked over at them. "Are you getting anywhere at all, Jarrod?" Victoria asked.

"I think so," Jarrod said, "but we're not to where we can say anything about it publicly yet. If we let too much out, the man who killed Carl stands a better chance of getting away, so quietly we'll never know he's gone."

Victoria looked at Nick, who was still at the refreshment table. "I suggest we let the subject alone for the rest of the evening. Yelling about it isn't going to do either of you any good."

"Jarrod," Audra said. "I know you're doing your best."

"Thanks, honey," Jarrod said.

XXXXXXX

Jarrod took time for a cigar out on the veranda after dinner, and he was not surprised to hear the door open behind him, but he was a bit surprised to see that it was Heath, not Nick. He smiled a little and took another puff before he said, "Are you here because you want to be, or was it Nick's idea?"

"Mine," Heath said. "Nick's kind of exhausted right now."

"I'm not surprised. He's wasting a lot of energy on me when he needs it to keep the ranches going."

"Jarrod, are you playing him?"

Jarrod gave Heath a sideways look. "What do you mean?"

"Manipulating him, to keep him from completely blowing up."

Jarrod smiled. "Is it working?"

Heath chuckled. "So far. You make him remember he has to run Carl's ranch for Carl, and that seems to get him refocused. I try to keep reminding him of that, but you seem to be more effective."

"I've had a lot more practice at keeping Nick in line than you've had. But I know, I'm running out of luck. If I just keep telling him to concentrate on running two ranches it's gonna wear thin."

"I keep reminding him it hasn't been very long you and the sheriff have been at this investigation, but you know Nick. He gets impatient. He wants answers fast."

Jarrod took in the last of his cigar and got rid of the butt. "And the older he gets, the faster he wants them. It's supposed to be the other way around, but Nick is Nick. We'll keep trying to hold him back, because if he gets into this investigation, he won't help it."

"You know, I think down deep he knows that," Heath said. "I think he's really just looking for you to reinforce that when he thinks he's losing it."

"I hope you're right," Jarrod said.

"So, how is it really going?"

Jarrod smiled. "Now whose side are you working on, mine or Nick's?"

Heath laughed. "Heath's."

Jarrod shook his head. "I'm being completely honest with Nick. There's nothing I can tell either of you yet, and I hate it. But getting impatient is gonna cause mistakes, and we can't afford any. We just don't have enough information yet to give us any margin for error."

"All right, Jarrod," Heath said. "I'm still with you on keeping Nick in line. But the thing about you two is – you're more patient. You're relentless. You don't flame up and flame out as fast as Nick does."

"I know," Jarrod said. "All these years of keeping him reined in have made me a very relentless man."

Heath laughed again. "Well, let's hope I've picked up enough from you to be a little help on this one."

XXXXXXX

When Jarrod came into town the next morning, he spotted the sheriff on the street in front of his office, and the sheriff waved him in. Jarrod hitched his horse right in front of the office and followed Sheriff Madden in, asking, "What have you got?" as soon as he closed the door behind him.

"Something," Sheriff Madden said. "Wally Miles came in about twenty minutes ago, and he apologized."

"For what?"

"Sully O'Mannion packed up and slinked off during the night."

"Sully?" Jarrod said, surprised. "I really thought he was being honest with us. I thought he'd have taken off a lot sooner if he were lying."

"Well, it looks like Sully's our man. I've sent my deputy and a couple of men we grabbed off the street as a posse."

"Do you have any idea which way he's gone?"

"Wally said he made tracks heading toward Lodi."

"Well," Jarrod sighed, sitting down. "That's something."

"They could haul him back here with him still saying he was innocent, he was just scared."

"I know, but even if he does, we'll have more to pin Carl's murder on him. We'll have enough for me to charge him if I have to. Running away really irritates a jury."

The sheriff eyed him. "You're still not convinced it's Sully, are you?"

Jarrod took a deep breath. "Not until you talk with him once more. Now that it looks like we'll be making an arrest on him, he should either have a lawyer or should waive one, and I should stay away. Meanwhile, I'll be resisting the temptation to get Sully charged just to keep my younger brother in line. Nick is about to fly apart at the seams. Inheriting Carl's property doesn't seem to be keeping him occupied as much as I hoped."

"Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves," the sheriff said. "We have to catch Sully first."

Jarrod nodded. "I'll be in the courthouse all day. You'll let me know if they bring him back."

"Sure, Jarrod. And if I can get a confession out of him, you'll be the first to know."

"Just make sure he knows he can have a lawyer before you tell me anything more. Some of the lawyers in the state are finding arguments favoring their clients when the client talks without knowing he can have a lawyer. I know. I'm one of those lawyers finding those favorable arguments."

Jarrod got up and went back out to his horse. The livery not being far away, Jarrod walked him there, thinking. Something was still bothering him, something that said Sully was not the man they were after, but he had to admit to himself that right now his head was spinning more than usual. Probably because he had been splitting his time and energy between working on this investigation and keeping his brother – heck, keeping everyone at home, but especially his brother – from coming apart.

And finding someplace in there for his own grief, for Audra and for Nick, but for Carl, too. He knew he hadn't given himself enough time to mourn the man they had just buried.

Jarrod knew he had to give himself some time this morning to grieve for Carl, or he might not be able to get his own head straightened out enough to read what was going on here with Sully. When he reached his office, he told his secretary he didn't want to be disturbed except by the sheriff. He closed the door, sat down with a cup of coffee, and just let himself remember Carl Wheeler for a while. And miss the man.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Sheriff Madden came by Jarrod's office in the courthouse at about three in the afternoon. He was looking tired and worn, but Jarrod couldn't tell right away whether his efforts had paid off or not. Jarrod waited for the sheriff to sit down, and he waited a bit more for the man to talk.

"We got him," the sheriff said.

And Jarrod said, "There's a 'but' – "

The sheriff sighed. "He still says he didn't do it. He says he only ran because he was afraid we'd found his knife and were going to pin Carl's murder on him. I couldn't get a confession out of him to save my life."

Jarrod sighed. This going around in circles was getting to be more than trying. "Is he asking for a lawyer?"

"Sort of. I've got him locked up, but he says he doesn't have the money for a lawyer even though he wants one. Do we still have that bank of attorneys that will represent the indigent without charging them?"

"Yeah, you'll need to see Marvin Sanders."

"Marvin Sanders?! Cunningham's lawyer?!"

Jarrod nodded. "He might represent Sully if Sully shows he doesn't have the money to pay him, but right now that bank of lawyers is Sanders and me."

"Jarrod, Sanders is as crooked at Cunningham was!"

"You don't have to tell me that, Fred, but with me here on the other side of the aisle, Sanders is the only attorney left on that bank."

The sheriff moaned and rubbed his forehead. "Are we gonna charge Sully?"

"I don't know," Jarrod said, exasperated.

"You still think Sully's the wrong guy?"

"I don't know that either. This is one of those times I'm almost tempted to set Nick loose and let him beat something out of somebody."

"You don't mean that."

"No, I don't." Jarrod gave the whole thing some quick thought and sat up straighter. "Keep Sully in jail until you can get Marvin Sanders to see him. Tell Sanders I'm going to charge him within 24 hours unless Sully can give us something that seriously gets him off the hook."

"I hate dealing with Sanders."

"I hate that you have to, but Sanders really isn't quite as crooked as Cunningham was. I don't think."

The sheriff got up, nodding. "I'll go see Sanders and let you know what he says."

"Thanks, Fred," Jarrod said and watched the sheriff go out the door, closing it behind him.

Jarrod immediately got up and began swearing under his breath. If Sanders agreed to represent Sully, this whole thing was going to get far more complicated. Sanders was well known to try every trick in the book for his clients, and then some. And besides that, there was everything that went on between Jarrod and Cunningham, which Jarrod was certain – but could not prove – that Sanders knew all about before it ever happened. Sanders tore into him about his blindness at the trial, genuinely unnerving him, and Jarrod was sure Sanders was at least partly responsible for his blindness in the first place.

But Jarrod had to put that out of his mind. That was in the past, and there were enough problems in the present. He paced up and down, his thoughts going from what to do about Sully and Sanders, to what to do about Nick. As soon as Nick found out that Sully was going to be charged and represented by Sanders, he was going to go completely out of his mind. There would be no holding him back, short of tying him up and locking him in the tack room. Of all the damned people to get involved in this – Marvin Sanders!

Jarrod sighed. He knew he could avoid telling Nick until it was official that Sanders would represent Sully. He could at least get by with one more day of avoiding giving too much information to Nick, but after tomorrow, he'd have to find a way to let Nick know what was happening but keep him under control. The only other option was to not charge Sully and let him go, and that might very well make Nick even angrier. And it would leave Jarrod not doing his job the way it should be done.

Jarrod did a lot of pacing and a lot of swearing before he went home.

XXXXXXX

When Jarrod got home that evening, Nick was once again waiting for him, livid and ready to let him have it. "Why didn't you tell me you have the knife that killed Carl?" was the first thing Nick came at him with as soon as Jarrod came in the front door.

Jarrod knew he had to keep his cool, but given everything he had talked to the sheriff about today, it was really hard. He sucked in his nerve and said, "Because we don't have the knife that killed Carl."

"Then why in world did you spread the word that you did?!"

Jarrod put his hat, briefcase and gun on the table in the foyer and looked up at Nick. "To try to shake loose whoever might have used such a weapon to kill Carl."

Nick calmed a little and turned away.

"Is that why Sully O'Mannion's locked up?" Heath asked. "Is he what shook loose?"

"He's being questioned," Jarrod said and walked past both his brothers to the refreshment table. "That's all I can say because that's all there is."

Nick and Heath were left standing there, not knowing where else to go with this. Victoria asked flatly, "Is there anything more you can tell us, Jarrod?"

Jarrod turned toward her with the glass of scotch he had just poured. "Not yet."

Victoria said, "Then we will drop the subject for the rest of the evening."

"Mother – " Nick started.

"Jarrod can't tell us any more, so we'll drop it, Nick," Victoria said, her own impatience with her middle son beginning to take over. "Jarrod is doing his job, and that includes keeping some things to himself. You either trust your brother or you don't, Nick. Which is it?"

Even Jarrod was surprised to hear her tone of voice. "Mother," he said calmly, "please don't get tied up in knots over this. We're doing enough of that. Nick is just concerned that we don't seem to be getting anywhere in finding Carl's killer, and I'm concerned, too. I know he trusts me."

The look Jarrod exchanged with his mother told her that he was trying to force Nick into backing off, not contesting her. Jarrod was actually glad she had given him that opening, even if she didn't do it intentionally or even know she was doing it at all. It was what Jarrod needed to make Nick ease up, and he knew it was an opening when he heard it.

And Nick did ease up. "Yeah, I trust you, Jarrod. I'm just tired of getting nowhere."

"I won't give up, Nick," Jarrod said, as calmly as he could. "But since I can't tell you anything more, I agree with Mother. We should drop the subject and have a relaxing dinner together. I for one need it. Tell me how things are going at Carl's ranch."

So, the subject was successfully dropped, and Jarrod had quietly steered Nick back into concentrating on what he should have been concentrating on in the first place – running two ranches. Even Victoria did not see what Jarrod had done, but Heath did. Heath was not only impressed with the move. He was filing it away for the day he might need to use the same technique.

Jarrod knew Heath understood when his youngest brother privately gave him one of his lop-sided smiles that all but said, _You're playing him again, aren't you_. That alone made Jarrod feel a lot more relaxed than when he'd come in the door. He thanked Heath with a return smile and a tip of his glass of scotch.

XXXXXXX

Jarrod stayed up longer than the others, taking the time to work on a couple other cases he had coming up in a week or two. He had to concentrate hard on them to keep Sully O'Mannion and Marvin Sanders from invading his thoughts, so he never heard the soft footsteps that came up beside him in his thinking chair and touched his shoulder. He almost jumped.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

It was Audra. She always made Jarrod smile, even when, as now, she looked tired and troubled. Jarrod put the file he was reviewing down on the coffee table and got up, giving her a hug. "You're up awfully late."

"Worried about you," Audra said.

"Me?" Jarrod said. "I'm fine, honey. I just have a couple things I need to put away before I head up to bed."

"Oh, Jarrod, you're not fine. You're working too hard. You've only been back to work for a week and you've been working all the time."

"I'm working so hard because I want to find Carl's killer before he gets away. I know you understand that."

"I do, but Carl is gone. I don't want you going with him."

Jarrod laughed a little and hugged her again. "That won't happen, Audra. You forget, I had a rest of a couple weeks before I dove back into things."

"That wasn't a rest. That was you struggling against Cunningham and being blind. You were not resting."

Jarrod maneuvered her to sit beside him on the settee, keeping his arm around her. "I had all kinds of help, so it wasn't the struggle it could have been. But now it's important to me to bring Carl's killer to justice, for you and for Nick especially."

"And Nick is being his usual difficult self."

"I can handle Nick. But how about you? How are you doing?"

"I miss Carl. He's been in my dreams every night. I see his face in the darkness and I wish I could turn everything back to before he was killed. I've tried not to trouble you too much with it, because you've had your hands full with Nick and with finding who did this – "

"Hey, hey," Jarrod cut her off. "You haven't troubled me at all. I just don't want you thinking you have to carry this by yourself just because I've been busy. I always have time for you. Whatever you need from me, I want to give it to you."

Audra buried her head into his shoulder. "You've always been the best big brother a girl could have – even when I haven't always liked it when you've pulled Pappy out on me."

Jarrod laughed. "There's more than one side to Pappy. He doesn't just discipline his charges. He wants to be there for them when they hurt, too."

Jarrod kissed her forehead, and Audra smiled, but then it faded. "I want Carl back, Jarrod."

"I understand," Jarrod said, "and if I could give him back to you, I would, but I can't. I can only find his killer and get justice for him, and for you."

"Thank you for that," Audra said.

Jarrod hugged her close. "Stay right here with me for a while, and then we'll both head to bed, all right?"

Audra just nodded, and Jarrod kissed her forehead again as they leaned back in the settee. For a moment, he kicked himself for neglecting her so, but he was here now, and he wasn't going to let her go to bed uncomforted. And at the same time, he realized, he could comfort himself.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

On his way into town the next morning, Jarrod knew he did not want to go near the sheriff's office so long as Sully was jailed, especially if Sully was now represented by Marvin Sanders. Marvin Sanders, Jarrod thought to himself again. Joshua Cunningham might be dead, but his ghost was going to haunt things as long as Sanders was practicing law. Jarrod was still pretty sure Sanders had known Cunningham was going to come after him, but he couldn't prove it, and right now he had enough to be frustrated about. He'd have to let Sanders go, at least for the time being.

Jarrod went to his office in the courthouse first thing and was not there more than half an hour before Sheriff Madden came in. He looked even more tired and worn than he had the day before. Jarrod greeted him, but then waited again for the sheriff to start to speak.

Sheriff Madden heaved a big sigh. "Sanders won't take the case. He talked to Sully for a few minutes and then just left, late yesterday."

"And what's been Sully's reaction?" Jarrod asked.

"Quiet as a mouse. Like he's trying to decide what to do."

"Has he formally waived counsel?"

"Not yet, but I think if we offered him a decent deal, he might do it and plead guilty. He is very nervous, I'd say."

It was Jarrod's turn to sigh as he leaned back in his chair. "Did he do it, Fred?"

"I think so," Sheriff Madden said. "I think he's scared. He knows if we pin this on him, he'll hang, but maybe if we offered a lesser sentence, he might crack."

"Does he still think we have the knife?"

"I haven't told him any different, and so far he hasn't asked to see it. It's like he's trying to stay as far away from it as possible."

Jarrod got up and started to pace. And think. He's been a prosecutor often enough to know what kind of deal he might be able to offer a defendant and get a judge to approve, even in a case like this. But Jarrod really wished they had some physical evidence to pin on Sully. Until they had that, he wasn't really sure he'd be cutting a deal with a guilty man. In the absence of a witness, it was going to take finding some physical evidence to convince Jarrod – and convince a judge – that Sully was the man who had murdered Carl Wheeler.

Jarrod thought and paced in silence for nearly two minutes before he stopped and turned around. "All right. Let's try this."

XXXXXXX

Jarrod waited in his office impatiently, drumming a pencil on his desk, thinking about what the sheriff was saying to Sully right now, thinking about Nick and how he would react if they cut the deal with Sully that the sheriff was presenting to him. Wondering whether he was doing the right thing or not.

Being a prosecutor was the hardest job for an attorney to do. There was always the chance that you were sending an innocent man to jail or, worse yet, the gallows. Jarrod couldn't help but think about Keno Nash right now, a man he'd prosecuted and sent to prison for years before it was proved he was not guilty. Maybe he was able to help Keno build a life after that, but it still tore at his heart. Since then, he had always been extra careful about who he was prosecuting, or defending. He had always wanted to be extra sure he was doing the right thing.

And right now he wasn't extra sure. He hoped and prayed that what he had suggested the sheriff do would do the trick, but now he could only wait and see if it would work. He tried to work on other things, and he tried pacing, but he still couldn't settle down. He checked his watch and saw it was time to be eating some lunch, but he didn't want to leave the office, in case the sheriff came in.

Nick came in instead.

"What are you doing here?" Jarrod asked, trying not to but sounding annoyed.

"Had to do something at the bank," Nick said. "Thought I'd take you to lunch to try to make up for all the trouble I've been."

Jarrod sighed. "Sorry, Nick. I've got a lot on my mind right now."

"Let me feed you at Harry's. You'll feel better."

"Are you feeling better? Got your temper under control?"

Nick looked at the floor. "I admit, I've been even more difficult than usual. I talked to Heath a lot this morning, and he pretty much hit me over the head telling me I have to let you do your job."

"So, you're finally listening? You're not gonna give me the third degree whenever I come in the door?"

"I'm gonna do my best, Jarrod, because you're right. With both our ranch and Carl's, I've got a lot of responsibility to live up to."

Jarrod sighed. "Well, hallelujah. Okay, you can take me to lunch."

Before they could leave, though, the sheriff came in. He looked less worn than he'd been looking, but as soon as he saw Nick, he stopped in his tracks. "Jarrod, I need to talk to you," he said.

"Is this something Nick can hear?" Jarrod asked.

"I'll step outside," Nick said.

"No, it's probably okay you stay for this, Nick," the sheriff said. "It'll be public news, probably before the day is out."

Jarrod felt relief wash over him. "He took the deal."

The sheriff nodded. "He took me to where he'd hidden the money, so we've got the physical evidence we want, and he accepted the deal you offered him. All we have to do is get his arraignment on the docket, he'll plead guilty, it'll all be done."

"What'll be done?" Nick asked.

"I arrested Sully O'Mannion for Carl Wheeler's murder, Nick," the sheriff said. "In exchange for a 30 year sentence instead of a rope, Sully agreed to plead guilty and he took me to where he'd hidden the money he stole from Carl."

"Where was it?" Jarrod asked.

"Rock outcropping, not far out of town," the sheriff said. "He'd spent a little of it, but there was still about a hundred dollars left."

"A hundred dollars?" Nick said, and his anger was flooding into his face again. "He killed Carl Wheeler for a hundred dollars?"

"Yeah, Nick, he did," the sheriff said.

"And you're letting him get off without hanging?" Nick turned on his brother.

"Nick, it's a fair deal," Jarrod said. "We avoid a long trial that we might not get a conviction on, and Sully spends what amounts to the rest of his life in San Quentin."

Nick still glared, and then he turned and left in a huff.

The sheriff went after him, saying, "I'm not letting him near my jail."

Jarrod followed, exasperated with his brother but not really surprised at his reaction. The sheriff caught up with Nick on the street. Jarrod saw him grab Nick by the arm and stop him before he got very far from the courthouse. Jarrod reached them both as Nick was throwing his arms in the air and yelling about Sully being let off without hanging, while the sheriff kept grabbing him again.

Jarrod let the sheriff keep hold of Nick. Without touching him, Jarrod leaned into him and quietly said, "We didn't have anything solid on Sully, Nick. We didn't have the knife. It's long gone. We needed to link Sully with the money, and to do that we had to give him a reason to lead us to it."

"You'd have let him go if he didn't lead you to the money!"

"No, I'd have charged him with what we had – he was in the alley and he ran when he thought we had the knife. But I wasn't sure it was enough, Nick. We needed the money, and giving Sully a deal got us that."

"Jarrod's done a lot with just a little, Nick," the sheriff said. "We got what's important. The man who killed Carl is going to jail for a long, long time."

Nick started to calm down again. Jarrod saw the fire leaving his eyes, but Nick said more quietly, "A hundred dollars. Sully killed Carl for a hundred dollars."

"And he'll pay for it, Nick," Jarrod said. "We'll put it behind us and go on, and you'll do Carl's ranch proud after you own it. That's what matters now, Nick. Doing Carl proud."

Nick sighed and nodded, and then he left, mounting his horse and riding away. Jarrod didn't care that Nick wasn't going to buy him lunch after all. He was just glad to see him ride out of town.

"Can I buy you a sandwich, Jarrod?" the sheriff asked.

"I think I'd rather buy you one, Fred," Jarrod said. "Thanks for helping me rein in my brother. Hopefully, we won't have to do it again, at least not for Carl."

XXXXX

It was the next evening that the Barkley family, all together, went to Carl Wheeler's ranch with flowers to put onto his grave. They all stood silently, looking down, until Jarrod said, "Today we got Sully O'Mannion arraigned, Carl. He pled guilty, and he's already on his way to San Quentin. Maybe you can rest a bit easier now."

Jarrod saw his sister losing a few tears. He went over to where she stood with their mother and gave her a kiss on the top of her head. Nick and Heath both came closer, too.

"I wish – " Audra started, but then she shook her head. She couldn't finish. She knew what she wanted to say, but she wasn't sure she wanted her family to hear it.

"I know, I've been so tied up with getting Carl's killer that I haven't done as much to help you get through this as I should have done," Jarrod said to his sister. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'll do better from here on out."

Audra touched his hand on her shoulder. "Oh, you've done plenty for me, Jarrod. Bedtime stories have helped a lot."

"You've done plenty keeping me on an even keel, too," Nick said. "And I'm sorry I've been such a chore. I'm sorry to you, too, Audra. I've been so wrapped up in myself, I've let you down, too."

"It's not that," Audra said. "Mother and Heath have been here, and I'm all right. It's just – I'm going to miss Carl so much." Audra cried for a moment, but then she stopped and pulled herself together.

Victoria said, "Putting his killer in jail makes everything so final. Carl is really gone, and we have to adjust to that. And we need to help Nick because he's going to have so much more work to do once Carl's will is probated."

"I've given some thought to that," Nick said. "I think once Carl's ranch is put in my name, I ought to keep it separate from the Barkley ranch for now. I want to keep his house here, keep Sam Franklin as foreman and let him live there. I'm gonna count on him to keep things going just the way they have been. I think Carl would be okay with all of that."

"You'll need to spend some time with Franklin, learning how things have been going," Heath said.

"I've been thinking about that, too," Nick said. "And while I get things in hand over here, Heath, I'm hoping you'll take over the main chores in running the Barkley ranch."

Heath smiled. "Consider it done, big brother."

"I think we're doing right by our friend Carl," Victoria said. "We'll miss him, but we won't forget him."

"He was a good man," Jarrod said. "I know you'll do right by him, Nick."

"Just gonna follow my big brother's example," Nick said.

"You know," Victoria said with a smile, "I remember when Carl was born."

"So do I," Jarrod said. "Carl's mother put him into my little arms, and Mother, you said I'd soon have a little brother of my own just like Carl. And I remember thinking, 'Oh, no….'"

Victoria smiled. "And you still spend a lot of time thinking, 'Oh, no.'"

"No," Jarrod said, sincerely, and giving his middle brother a smile. "Not anymore."

Jarrod leaned over and placed the flowers he was holding on Carl's grave, and the rest of his family did the same with their flowers. As she laid her flowers down, Audra said quietly, "Good-bye, Carl. We all love you."

They turned together and went home.

The End


End file.
